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The
Letter
A refrigerator hums in the background. It’s my only companion. The lounge room is still, the bedrooms and kitchen, they too are still. Nothing moves but dust motes in stuffy air.
An empty house is a lonely house.
I stand and walk into the lounge. Above the fireplace are pictures of Judy and me – windows into past memories. They are Judy’s proof of life.
Remember, Judy, photos taken that day in Queenstown, New Zealand, when we swished on skis down mountain slopes?
Remember when you held Cathy’s baby in your arms? You laughed into the camera. We both knew it was only a matter of time before we started our own family.
Remember the day we wed, Judy? Our friends and family gathered around the stone chapel with its grey walls arching high. Stained glass windows glowed in the afternoon sun.
"I’ll take you, Judy, to honour and comfort you, in sickness and in health, till death do we
part."
If only time could be wound back to those precious days. You, with your shoulder length golden hair and sapphire blue eyes. Later the frail body became a stark contrast. Chemotherapy took away the golden hair and left it in light whips upon a balding head.
I place the silver framed wedding photo back on the mantle. In the bedroom I open a wardrobe door. Its hinges squeak. Inside is a box. It has a flowered montage with your much loved roses; pinks, yellows and reds. Pink was your favourite.
I remember the smell of them. Like scented perfume on your skin in a spring day.
Inside the box is an envelope with "To my husband’ in your handwriting. My heart beats faster as I try to comprehend what this may reveal. I begin to
read …
"To my dearest husband,
Well, Jacob, here we are at the end. I hope the nurse will pass this letter on. You know the best has been done to keep me alive. Yet this is as much as modern science can do to help. It’s a shame the last dose of chemo couldn’t eradicate the tumour, but some things are beyond our control.
My body is weak, the struggle lost. But my heart has never been as strong. Your commitment has stood true throughout my sickness. You cling to me but death comes and you need to let go. Cherish the times we have left together. Let each breath I take be spent with you. You are my soul mate and I love you, my husband, more than my heart can ever confess.
Never stop living for your self. You have a beautiful soul. Share it with others. Go on, always go on. Don’t let darkness consume the goodness that you possess. This is not the end. It’s never the end. I shall wait for you. All you have to do is remember me and I will be there in spirit. Don’t let precious moments be wasted in grief.
Your soul and mine are bound forever.
Love, Judy."
My breath catches in a constricted throat. I clutch the letter to my heart and rock back and forth on the edge of the bed. Tears gather and fall like raindrops.
Too late to be there for you in the last moments but this letter has assuaged my guilt and made it more bearable. Your thoughts were of me. I feel my heart beat again and know that love has reached into its emptiness. The heart is a vessel that stores love. When full it beats strong, sure and warm. When empty its walls ache and all purpose seems lost.
Death passes but love endures. Judy once told me that love, like a wave, has highs and lows. But sure as the sea swells there will always be another wave. You simply need strength to ride them out and there is no greater strength than love.
I fold the letter with care. "Okay, Judy," I whisper, "This life I live for you. This heart will beat once
more."
Believe Love is Forever
Art Print
Moulton, Jo
Buy at AllPosters.com
Reviews
(applause received) 
Alison
Pearce Australia
"What a beautiful, heartfelt and bittersweet story that shows that true love transcends all boundaries, even death. Bravo!"
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