Waking up

Waking up...
        I woke up to a ray of sunlight, warming the skin on my leathery cheek. I smiled and rolled over to an empty side of the bed, once again. Every morning now, I am without her. It's been two years now yet everyday I am left disappointed. Why do I even bother? Why would a 80 year old man wake up to find out that he hates his life...every morning? What's the point? They say there's no reason to live if you can't live to your fullest. How can I live to my fullest if I am without her? My life...my love. I remember when I'd wake up and get to see her beautiful, healthy face; before the sickness hit of course. Which those mornings turned into late nights at the hospital.

Almost every moment when I looked into those once so lively eyes my soul would weep. She was so pale, so weak, not even a hint of her peach skin showed through. After a few months, I could tell that she was giving up. All that life, spirit was drained out of her. The result of her sitting up was as if she had ran a marathon, and soon enough she couldn't even do that. I cried almost every night, not only was I losing my life, but my sweet Annabel was suffering too.

Only until that god awful day, that terrible day...She said to me in her sweet, soft voice,
"Oh love, could you go get the nurse? I need her to fetch me another pillow, I'm a bit uncomfortable."
That had been the longest I heard her talk for months, but I didn't think anything of it then. My love was uncomfortable so I went to get her another pillow, the fluffiest of them all!

But when I returned all I saw was an unplugged machine and her thin, folded hands over her now beatless heart. I walked to her side to the beat of the beeping machines. This is where I would always belong, beside her; I stared and then softly placed the pillow underneath her delicate head. I kissed her forever pale forehead and just as I was about to go tell a doctor, I saw a colored piece of paper, flat, over her motionless chest. I tediously grabbed the paper from underneath her hands, as if I was to wake her but she didnt open those beautiful brown eyes. I watched her as I unfolded it, automatically, and when I looked down to read her elaborate handwriting, it said,
"Sweet love, sweet sorrow. Do not be sad for I am in heaven now. I love you and one day we will see eachother once again, but until then, don't forget to feed Buster."Buster was our dog...

Now that was the Annabel I knew! Always making jokes no matter how serious the situation. I don't hate her for what she did, there wasn't much of a chance she was going to survive but I miss her. And here I am again...awoken without her. I got up, slowly slipped into my house slippers and went to the kitchen. That's where we kept Busters dog food. Once I poured out his favorite, beef and liver, he wobbled to his bowl. He was techniqually probably as old as I am. I patted his grayed head and left his over sized dog food bag wide open. I had a care taker who came every friday, it was wednesday now so Buster would be fine. I went back to my bedroom where I had planned to do this. I was a retired policeman so I still owned my firearm.

I remember thinking of this gun as a protecter. If any shmuck planned to break in I could protect my Annabel. And now it would only bring me closer to her. I wrote my note back to her and pulled out my old friend, held it up to my softened head and thought of my sweet, my love, her beautiful face, and her gracious body. I thought of all the memories we had together. The times we laughed, the times we cried. Oh, how I missed her. Her gorgeous personality, and spunky attitude. I have lived without her long enough, and soon I would feel her flesh once again. And as I heard the explosion of my new life, God read my note to Annabel, which said,
"Sweet love, sweet sorrow. Do not be sad for I will be with you shortly. I love you, and never forgot to feed Buster."{/linespace}