The Window

The Window
by
Terry Burres

I waited at the window as the sky darkened from purple to black. I waited. I waited for the window to become a mirror. I have waited here every night since shortly after his funeral. On that night I had cried in anguish for the love of my life and he came to me. First he was just a wispy shadow. With each night, however, he grows stronger. He comes to me because I need him. I need him as much as I need air to breath.

We met when he walked into my studio to buy a sculpture for his friend’s anniversary. We started talking about art. He suggested going for a cup of coffee. Coffee led to dinner. I didn’t notice the time until the waiter asked if we wanted a night cap. I looked at him, he looked at me and we laughed like two crazy people. We had talked for hours. From that day on we were constantly together.

We spent hours at home. Sometimes I would read while he worked the seek and find puzzles that he loved. I might work on a piece of sculpture or a painting and he would sit quietly watching. We cooked or sat in the back yard. We were two halves of the same whole. We were so very happy

Then he started having horrid head aches. The doctors ran tests. They poked. They prodded. They handed down a verdict of death. We went home and waited. Much to soon he did not wake in the morning. Much to soon he was no longer in our home. I was alone again. I was just an empty shell in an empty world. Once again I was waiting.

In the darkened mirror of our window he smiled. He reached for me. I could see him coming through for me. Joyfully I accepted his invitation and walked into his arms. I left my empty shells behind. Now we are together again. Together forever and ever.