Twelve-Thirty

The darkest time of the day. The darkest day of my year. Now our house is dark, too. I couldn’t stay in that house with so much of and for him all around me. His Valentine tree, decorative lights, favorite foods, decorations to stimulate thoughts and memories, his photographs, our artwork, logistical ease for him…and all for naught. I snapped two pictures of him as he followed the care facility representative to his new room. A pandemic forbade me from taking this step with him. Cruel, shallow affect, a tearer-asunderer! The first one he was obscured by a tree. Obscured…perfect. The second one – him arrow straight, looking back for me. Youthful, as though he were walking to work. And this disease and complications has been work for him. Truth be told, for me also. 34 years with someone. Over half of my years; a lifetime. Not what and who either of us were looking for, but together. I realize only now how together. And now apart. Memories, crystallized moments in my Minds Eye flood me. A glimpse here, oh wait, taken over by another flash from our past. And another and another……I was looking at this – Life; Love; Marriage all wrong. From a skewed perspective. From a Hollywood movie rose-tinted vantage point. But Love doesn’t have to be breathless. Or romantic. Or intense. Or anticipatory can’t-live-without-each-other..Yet, now we are.

So is he once again waiting to be born? Where is the essence of him now? ‘Cause other than being able to say my name, he is gone. I watched him led to The Waiting Room. Now we are – with finality – without each other. Disease progressions and a novel virus have seen to that. So where is he mentally now that he’s no longer here? Curious minds want to know! This Waiting Room? Waiting for the next adventure? The next bounce? The next experience? Is he in sleepy-time darkness or an unseen world of illumination only unto himself?

But, it is 12-30…(and) the darkest hour of the day…