The flowers died on Monday. Part 2

He pulled his dress pants from the dryer, it was Tuesday, Tuesday morning, he thought, one more day. I made it one more day.

The static shock was so profound it actually hurt. “God Dammit”! He cursed loudly! He never cursed, not like that, most definitely not in front of her, especially using the Lords name in vain. Boy, she would have given him a look. He managed to churn up a smile just thinking of her beautiful face and chuckled a bit because he would have known he deserved that look too.

Her love for Christ was something others could only dream of having. She loved Christ before anyone, even him. He didn’t know how she could do it. He could never love anyone more than he loved her. It never bothered him that she carried that love for our Heavenly Father, he admired it, at times he was even jealous of it.

He gathered himself together, wiped the tears starting to form in his eyes and finished dressing for work.

He went into the kitchen to fill up his thermos for the drive into the city. He placed the coffee pot back on the burner reached into the cupboard, pulled out her favorite mug, one she ‘gained’ from their favorite restaurant. She was always doing crazy things like that. She always knew it would gain a great memory but would cost her in the collection plate on Sunday. He smiled again; set it down next to the coffee maker and proceeded out of the house and closed the door. But not before saying their trademark exchange “Love you, baby, I’ll be seeing you”

Something he and she said every day for years. He refused to let somethings go. Some said it’s “unhealthy” for him and he should “move forward”. Well, he says it helps him breathe daily and he’s not moving in any direction.

The day was long; he arrived home a little after seven, the office seems to be filling his time and mind for that matter. He knew it helped to stay busy but today was unusually long.

He made himself a vodka and soda adding a lime twist, he removed her favorite wine glass from the shelf, poured her a six-ounce pour, “no more please, I’m trying to keep this figure in check” he could hear her voice say through the room, he poured her wine and set it down on the coffee table. He raised his glass and said, “Here’s to us babe” he reached over and clinked her glass and took a nice long sip of his cocktail.

Tuesday, he thought. Two more days until her birthday. He let himself sink into the sofa, closed his eyes, and prayed to God that He would take him too.


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