“The first day I was without you, I thought would be the hardest. Here I was, missing you, still smelling your cologne, and still sensing your strong presence. I wanted to die, right then and there. I didn’t though.

Now I am here to talk to you. Will you even listen to me? I wish I knew for sure. I am still going to tell you some things I never got a chance to say to you before. I hope you hear me. “The first time I saw you, I was smitten. Yes. I never told you that before, did I? I can tell you must be surprised. Even though you will not speak to me now, I can still tell. I know you thought I hated you at first, because I seemed to be so unreachable. But, please understand. I had been hurt so much before, I was scared of being too easy to catch.

“Here I am, once again, heartbroken. I know it wasn’t your fault that you left me, really. But you did, nonetheless. Why? Did I do something so bad in my life that I have to be punished over and over? I really thought you loved me, I really did! I know I was hard to live with, but please believe me. I loved you with every fiber of my being. I wanted us to grow old together. I wanted us to both see our children grow into adults together, not apart like this! This seems so final, so irreversible. Is it?

Can the last few years be turned back, even for just a moment? I wish it could, then I could pour out my heart to you and you would understand, instead of sitting there, not listening to me at all. “We have two grandchildren now, in case you want to know. I would show you the pictures, but I don’t believe you even care now. Why? Why did you leave me this way? “We went through so many rough times together and survived them, why did this one thing have to come between us? Why couldn’t this be the year we celebrate our Christmas Eve anniversary together, drinking eggnog by the fire, while the children sleep, and privately exchanging our special anniversary gifts to one another?

“Now, you will not even acknowledge I am here to see you. Once a few months ago, when I pleaded for you to talk to me, I thought I saw a spark of the old you in your eyes, but then, it faded. “Am I destined to keep trying fruitlessly to win you back over from the dark lover who has stolen you? I remember when you first fought the urge to give in; she was slow, seductive, and overpowering.

She finally won you over, didn’t she, My Love? Now, your heart is buried there somewhere in her dark embrace. Will you ever be able to get free of her, My Darling?”

***

As I sat there with you, talking to you, wishing you, once again, Happy Holidays, a miracle happened! You spoke to me in the very special way you had before on our anniversary! I will never forget the words you spoke right then. “Happy Holidays, my Darling! The best gift God ever gave me for Christmas was you!” Then, you told me you loved me in your special way. Not long after that, she took you again. This time, it was for good. She never let you go afterwards. I never got to hear those words again.

***

Now, I lie here, resting my head on the place where I would have been cradled on your chest, drinking eggnog, and singing our favorite Christmas carol. “I lift my cup to you, Joe. “Did I ever tell you that you were the best gift I ever got from God? “I know I did once a long time ago. I feel like it was in another life, another time and place.

“I wanted to tell you, I’ve met someone since you’ve been gone. He is not like you much, but for those qualities you once held. He is tenderhearted, kind and gentle like you used to be. I think maybe he and I will have a life together.

“Joe? He has asked me to marry him. I am in love with him, but I will always love you, too. Even in spite of everything we went through; your bouts of intense anger, the anger I felt at times, wishing I could bring you back to me.

“We both know that was to never happen.

"Joe, I met him at a support group for families of Alzheimer’s patients. His wife also died of the dark lover. "

I feel a strong sense of approval from you. I place the special wreath we bought for our first Christmas upon your grave and say for the final time,

“Happy Holidays, my Darling.” And I walk away. 

Erin Collins © 2002