Moving On: Without Her, For Her.
I look out the window of the old burger place toward the old
highway. This had to be my third meal in a row that tasted like pure grease. My
mind just sort of feels blank. I’ve been on the road for two days in my beat up
truck, heading for Texas. Everything just sort of hurts as I think about where
I’m going. I think about her. I think about how the girl I loved would never live out her dream. I remember how she laughed. I remember how she cried. I remember the pain in her eyes when she told me to “be brave”. I remember how she slipped out of this life to the whirl of the heart monitor and
the panic of the doctors. I remember the pain that’s been eating away at me
ever since.
“Hey buddy, you alright?” Some man at another table breaks
me out of my thoughts.
I realize I had started crying. Startled by the unwanted
attention, I quickly wipe away those tears, embarrassed at my emotions. I turn,
ready to tell the man to mind his own business. But then, well, the guy had his
kids with him. She and I would never be
able to have kids now. I choose instead just to wave him off as I stand to
leave.
I groan as I walk outside. My legs had those “you’ve been
sitting for 5 ½ hours straight” kind of pain and stiffness. To top that off, I
didn’t want to get back in that car any time soon, and I felt bad at my burst
of anger toward that guy. It’s not every day you run into someone who would go
out of their way to help a stranger. She was always quick to help others who might be in need. She was always a beautiful example.
I walk over to the gas station to grab some snacks for the
road. At least they might have some healthier options than the burger joint. An
electronic bell sounds as I pull open the door. The place smells of cigarette,
gum, and Slurpees. I maneuver my way around the other customers to grab some granola
and pretzels.
“So, where ya headed?” The cashier asks lightheartedly.
I just barely manage to say “Dallas”. She had chosen Dallas for our future home. Now it would be mine, but
not hers. Tears threaten to start again. I throw in a pack of gum, pay in
cash, and head out before the guy can ask me anymore questions.
“Have a good day!” the cashier calls out as I leave.
So many people around me are happy. The other customers
looking at the candy aisle, a trucker who pulled in just as he was about to run
out of gas, a young college student dancing in her car to some unheard music. Excitement,
relief, and joy. Everything I used to
feel when I looked at her.
A dog barks at me across the parking lot as it take a run. She and I had always wanted a dog. A dog
would still be good for me, but it wouldn’t be ours. The house I bought would be great for a dog. The house I
would never get to share with her.
It’s strange. Just before I started thinking about things at
the burger place, I had been doing fine. I take a deep breath and sigh. I lean
against the side of my truck and stare at the sky. To say I missed her was an understatement.
My very soul yearned for her. My
mind could not be moved from the memory of her.
She was happy, creative, loving,
beautiful. I want her back as much
as a drowning man wants air.
Still, I climb back into my truck, start it up and head back
to the highway. I say a prayer in my heart that I can be strong. I keep moving
because I am determined. I will complete her dreams when she can’t. Because even when she’s
gone, she is still, and forever, my wife.
