I reach out to touch her cheek, tracing gently the smoothness of her skin with a crooked finger. She looks up at me through dewy eyes, chestnut and dappled with golden flecks. I lean over to press my lips to her cool forehead. Heather's cheek is pressed into the soft pillow, her face is wreathed in mahogany curls tinged with copper. She is smiling and has never looked so beautiful
It was that smile that had captivated me seven years ago, a smile that changed my heart forever on our wedding day and sustained it day after day from then on. I met her in the rain one spring afternoon in St James Park.
The sun had been shining all morning, there was a light breeze and little hint of the squall that was to follow. It was lunchtime and I had take-out sandwiches and a coffee from a little Italian place on Half Moon Street. London had taken on a slightly greyer tone as the clouds blew in and it didn't take long for the rain to start to fall. I hurried across to the bandstand in St James Park and stood there, dismally staring out at the world.
My first vision of her was a comical one. Bedecked in a black skirt and white blouse, she darted across the path and up onto the grass, where the heel of her shoe became stuck in the earth. I watched as she struggled in the rain, which had begun to fall in steady sheets, and then begin to hop, shoe in hand, towards the shelter. She was soaked to the skin. Her hair either hung in bedraggled coffee spirals at her shoulders or was plastered across her cheeks and water ran off the end of her nose. As she shook out her hands, her sandwiches, which were limp and soggy in their wet paper bag, suddenly opened and shed their contents on my shoes. Chicken mayonnaise and sweet corn.
"Oh, my God I'm so sorry," she said, her expression horrified.
I just smiled.
As the rain continued to drive across the park we stood next to each other staring silently ahead. Eventually, I caught her eye and was grateful of a small smile in return to ease the tension. I turned to offered her half my sandwich. She smiled, refusing politely and folded her arms self-consciously across her chest, her blouse was almost see-through.
I removed my jacket. "Do you want this, you're a little erm. see through there," I said. Oh God! "I wasn't looking or anything" I added quickly, feeling the colour rise in my cheeks.
I must have looked completely at a loss, my mouth was flapping but no words would come. She laughed then and the rain had never seemed so wonderful.
She told me her name was Heather.
Our wedding was a simple affair, a modest church in the West Country, on a hill overlooking the sea on a hazy afternoon in late summer. Even now I just have to close my eyes and I can see her silhouetted in the white dress and the sunlight from the doorway. I'm not a religious man but if there are such things as Angels one truly appeared to me that day. I remember my breath catching in my throat and my heart pounding fiercely in my chest; how I got though my vows I'll never know. Heather remained a vision of tranquillity throughout; only at the conclusion did I notice her hands trembling.
Tears blur my eyes as I recall the day you came home early from the office, your face was pale and drawn as you sat on the sofa and began to speak. Every word was a hammer blow. The cancer was so quick to spread, corrupting everything, shrinking you and taking your mind and washing away your memories. I truly thought that I would die as I watched it ruin you but through it all you remained strong and your smile never faded, not for a second.
I took this photo three days before you passed; your eyes portrayed not a hint of the pain you were in and you never looked so beautiful
............................................God saw you were getting tired, .................................................a cure was not to be. .............................................So he put his arms around you, ............................................and whispered, "come with me."
..........................................With tearful eyes I watched you suffer ..................................................and saw you fade away. ................................................Although I love you dearly, ................................................I could not make you stay.
...............................................So when I saw you sleeping .................................................so peacefully from pain, ................................................I could not wish you back .................................................to suffer that way again.
.................................................In life I miss you dearly, .................................................in death I love you still, ............................................in my heart you hold a special ............................................place, no one else will ever fill.
You got me. I never even saw it coming. I should have known the ending ... I was sucked in so fast that I never made it to the music player at the bottom and it's prolly just as well, I would have been bawling, I'm sure of it.
that poem is stunning, a real tear jerker. the story as a whole is marvelous and yep, I can see it as a movie, too.
You should embed that music thingy at the top, Howie. lol
You got me. I never even saw it coming. I should have known the ending ... I was sucked in so fast that I never made it to the music player at the bottom and it's prolly just as well, I would have been bawling, I'm sure of it.
that poem is stunning, a real tear jerker. the story as a whole is marvelous and yep, I can see it as a movie, too.
You should embed that music thingy at the top, Howie. lol
This really pulled at my heart and brought tears to my eyes. So beautiful, so peaceful, and most of all, so full of love. I will always remember this whenever I go to St James Park!
Thank you for this beautiful picture of love.
What a cute, simple story about an everyday love. I love the descriptions, and the characters! ^^
I tell you, the poem was the part that made me tear. I mean, the cancer thing popped up suddenly, but the poem was just beautiful. It showed acceptance of what happened, but the love between them that would never fade.
Chantal-Lise is right - I can almost see the TV/film version of this ... very sad and sadly, not at all rare! The poem at the end brings up the rear, so to speak, and rounds it off nicely. xxx
This is MUCH better, Howie! SOooo sad.... We have a Hallmark cable channel in the States and this would make a perfect movie of the week... Just as your protagonist misses Heather, so do we! The first encounter with her really makes her come alive - that's a brilliant description! I've had a sandwich bag breakthrough and can relate!
Since your character compares Heather to an angel, you might want to maintain that image by saying istead of "the Angels took you away" that "you went to rejoin the Angels."
For someone who says he's not a religious man, the final poem to Heather is lovely, and just the kind of thing you might see on those in memorium cards at funerals. I thought at first that in the frist paragraph, he is at the funeral, kissing her dead body, but I see at the end that it must be her photo he kisses...
Well, I knew right away she was dead, which kind of distracted me from the rest of the story. The weather aspect was a bit confusing, too - you say it was raining, but the sun was shining...As to your initial conversation with her, I think you should perhaps say you turned TO offer her your sandwich, but make your quoted snippet of conversation be that offer, not a follow-up to one she'd already rejected (and I don't know that "alarmed" would be your state of mind, maybe more "embarassed" or "sheepish"). I also think you should mention her name earlier in the story (not just the introduction), or not at all. All in all, I think her whole existence seems rather ephemeral to warrant such a melodramatic ending. The story needs either some hints at her initial aliveness, or a tragic take on someone you indeed never got to know at all, the union was so brief! Heather, we hardly knew ye! Lovely rain pictures, and great song, though! There IS a story in this small snapshot of grief, but in my opinion, it needs some tweaking...I LOVE romance. If anything, I'm TOO sentimental! If you decide to work on this, send me the revised copy!
Well, I'm back - it only took 8 years to get over my writer's block!
Now 47, older, wiser and, for some reason, now a teacher having left the Armed Forces in 2012.
The writing is slow going but .. more..