I'm at Home in Your Heart
A Breezy Christmas
It was Christmas day and I was all alone; I told my family that I wouldn’t be coming over for Christmas that year. Somehow I thought God would have placed me here in this house all by myself so that I would have the opportunity to mourn over my husband.
David, my husband, always sat in his rocker in the corner of our living room; so, I decided that if I could sit in that chair, he would be a little bit closer to me than he could physically be. Later that night, I found the proof that my husband’s spirit was closer to me in that chair. I sat there, bawling my eyes out because I couldn’t find a way to not think about my husband’s death. It was Christmas, the day that he would have been able to come home.
Proof did come that he was indeed with me that night. I was sitting there in the pit of my pain as a breeze brushed into the house through the fireplace. I still hadn’t started the fire to burn the letter, so the letter blew out of the fireplace, being picked up by the breeze. The letter slid right across the laminate flooring stopping when it touched my toes.
I picked up the letter that had hit my feet, finally gaining the courage to tear open the envelope’s seal, brushing off the ashes from the fireplace. Pulling out the letter, I unfolded it, and decided that I should read it. I read it to myself, hearing his Southern accent in each of the words on that paper:
Elizabeth,
Love-
I know these past 6 months have been a strain for us, but I want you to know that I will never love anyone like I love you. I also know that I’m suppose to be home for Christmas this year, but if something should happen, I want you to know that I will never leave your side. That’s a negative note, but if I had some last words before dying those would be it. I will be with you no matter what trials you face, darling.
You may wonder how I keep myself going out here and how I am dealing with this right now. Babe, I deal with it for you, I fight for you, and I keep myself going because of you. Whenever I think that I’m at the worst point, I imagine how your face lit up when I proposed. That day on the docks, when I asked you to be my wife, you said 'yes' knowing that I was going to be leaving; I hold the glow of your face that day close to my heart. I hope that if I arrive back home I may see that gorgeous face light up again.
Suddenly the words in the letter changed; rather than being written with a slow steady hand it was scrawled in a rapid writing hand. I could feel the mood of my hubby switch from happiness to fearful. Could it be that these were his last words right before he died? Still, I continued to read on:
Darling, if I should die today, I would be at peace because I have had you to love and care for.
When I got to the last line of this beautiful, tragic letter, I looked myself in the mirror. As I looked into the mirror, I did not see my own reflection; rather I was greeted with my husband’s face staring back at me. I read the last line aloud: There’s a gift on the back of this letter and I want you to hold this so you remember me and all the good times.
I continued staring into the mirror and as the face of my husband disappeared. I read his lips as he faded back out of the picture and he said to me, “Hold onto the memories and hold onto your hope.” With those last words my husband disappeared from the picture, but not my heart. He would be forever stamped onto my heart.
As I ran my fingers across David’s wedding ring, I felt a single teardrop slide down my face and I went to wipe it off. There was no wetness on my face, but rather that tingle I got from every kiss on the cheek from my husband. I smiled knowing that my hubby would never leave my side, even if he wasn’t in physical form. Even when he was dead, we shared a beautiful, tragic love story.
David, my husband, always sat in his rocker in the corner of our living room; so, I decided that if I could sit in that chair, he would be a little bit closer to me than he could physically be. Later that night, I found the proof that my husband’s spirit was closer to me in that chair. I sat there, bawling my eyes out because I couldn’t find a way to not think about my husband’s death. It was Christmas, the day that he would have been able to come home.
Proof did come that he was indeed with me that night. I was sitting there in the pit of my pain as a breeze brushed into the house through the fireplace. I still hadn’t started the fire to burn the letter, so the letter blew out of the fireplace, being picked up by the breeze. The letter slid right across the laminate flooring stopping when it touched my toes.
I picked up the letter that had hit my feet, finally gaining the courage to tear open the envelope’s seal, brushing off the ashes from the fireplace. Pulling out the letter, I unfolded it, and decided that I should read it. I read it to myself, hearing his Southern accent in each of the words on that paper:
Elizabeth,
Love-
I know these past 6 months have been a strain for us, but I want you to know that I will never love anyone like I love you. I also know that I’m suppose to be home for Christmas this year, but if something should happen, I want you to know that I will never leave your side. That’s a negative note, but if I had some last words before dying those would be it. I will be with you no matter what trials you face, darling.
You may wonder how I keep myself going out here and how I am dealing with this right now. Babe, I deal with it for you, I fight for you, and I keep myself going because of you. Whenever I think that I’m at the worst point, I imagine how your face lit up when I proposed. That day on the docks, when I asked you to be my wife, you said 'yes' knowing that I was going to be leaving; I hold the glow of your face that day close to my heart. I hope that if I arrive back home I may see that gorgeous face light up again.
Suddenly the words in the letter changed; rather than being written with a slow steady hand it was scrawled in a rapid writing hand. I could feel the mood of my hubby switch from happiness to fearful. Could it be that these were his last words right before he died? Still, I continued to read on:
Darling, if I should die today, I would be at peace because I have had you to love and care for.
When I got to the last line of this beautiful, tragic letter, I looked myself in the mirror. As I looked into the mirror, I did not see my own reflection; rather I was greeted with my husband’s face staring back at me. I read the last line aloud: There’s a gift on the back of this letter and I want you to hold this so you remember me and all the good times.
I continued staring into the mirror and as the face of my husband disappeared. I read his lips as he faded back out of the picture and he said to me, “Hold onto the memories and hold onto your hope.” With those last words my husband disappeared from the picture, but not my heart. He would be forever stamped onto my heart.
As I ran my fingers across David’s wedding ring, I felt a single teardrop slide down my face and I went to wipe it off. There was no wetness on my face, but rather that tingle I got from every kiss on the cheek from my husband. I smiled knowing that my hubby would never leave my side, even if he wasn’t in physical form. Even when he was dead, we shared a beautiful, tragic love story.