Romance Midst Tragedy

Romance Midst Tragedy
by Vivian Gilbert Zabel

         The dimly lit hospital halls echoed nothing but silence. My mother left over an hour earlier to go care for my other children, her grandchildren. The neighbor who had been with them all day needed to go home to her family. I knew no one else would be visiting until morning. The pain and longing swamped my mind and soul now that I lay in the hospital bed - alone.

         Last night, my baby entered this world. This morning she left after such a brief, too short visit. My poor husband, as devastated as only a parent losing a child can be, had taken the job of driving that tiny, white-satin covered casket from Woodward, Oklahoma to his home town in the Panhandle. There she would be buried at her great-grandfather's feet. Later he told me he couldn’t remember the trip, that the three hours simply disappeared. All he could do was keep the station wagon on the road so that he could take his baby girl to her final resting place. He vaguely remembered the funeral home, the simple grave-side service, but nothing about the trip except he had to drive safely so that nothing would hurt his baby.

         "Sounds crazy, doesn't it?" he would say as he told me about the trip.

         Meanwhile I lay grieving for the baby and worried about Robert. He refused to have anyone go with him, although a few friends had offered. Since I knew the long trip and the emotional drain would be worse than exhausting, I didn’t expect him to return until the next day. I did hope he would call, but he hadn’t. I half-reclined in the bed feeling empty and abandoned.

         “Oh, Mrs. Zabel,” the nurse announced as she entered carrying a crystal vase full of roses, “these were delivered earlier this afternoon and were left at the desk. I’m sorry no one brought them on down.” She set the large bouquet on the table under the television set. “Would you like the card?”

         “Yes, please.” My eyes widened at the expansive display. I hardly ever received flowers from anyone, and certainly not a dozen red roses with one white rose bud.

         The nurse handed me the card. “Have a good night. If you need anything, let us know.”

         She left as I stared at the card in my hand. “The red roses are for our love and our three living children, the white bud for our little angel who will never bloom. I love you, Robert.”

         My husband, with all his pain, all the arrangements, all the miles ahead of him, took the time to let me know he loved me. I sat on the edge of the bed with tears streaming down my face when he walked in the door.

         “Robert?” I hesitantly asked. “What... what are you doing here? I... I never thought you’d be back tonight.”

         He lowered himself beside me and took me in his arms. “I couldn’t leave you alone tonight. I had to be with you. I knew you needed me.”

         If I hadn’t already loved that man, I would have fallen in love with him then.

First Place, March 15, 2003
PSS Most Romantic Moment Contest