"I Am Always Remembering..."

It was about this time of the morning on that day when I'd realized that I couldn't ignore that it was all a big lie, that his promise wasn't real... he had no intentions of giving me the only thing I'd ever really asked of him. Earlier that morning, hours before the sunrise, I'd caressed his shoulders as we lay in bed and then I got up and started the day. Out for a run at 5 a.m., where along the way all I could think of was that tomorrow was supposed to have been the day all dreams came true. As I ran through the frigid January mist, when I reached the lake, I turned back towards what I called, "our home," even though in my heart of hearts, I knew it really wasn't, nor would it ever be. As I climbed the stairs to the back door, I shook off the mist that ran down my arms and legs, but what I couldn't shake off was the chill, not from the January air, but from the first inklings that, "today will be either a beginning or an end, and maybe both."

Looking back on that day now, it amazes me that as I walked through that backdoor for what would turn out to be the last time, I was able to hang a smile on my face as I tiptoed up the backstairs, down the hall and into "our bedroom" where he lay still asleep, seemingly blissfully unaware that the final cracks that were breaking my heart had appeared that morning. As I had done so many times before, I showered and dressed, and then offered him my kiss as he lay in bed watching me. As the dutiful "husband" I'd sought to be, I brought him his morning coffee up to the bedroom on a tray, as I always had done, and then back down to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast.

He who was so beloved to me came downstairs handsomely dressed for work in a blue suit and blue shirt I had ironed days before. As he sat down at the table waiting for me to serve him, I looked across the kitchen to where he sat as I cooked his eggs,  I realized he'd never looked more beautiful, or ugly to me than he did that morning before the anniversary of the day that never was. He spoke sweetly to me (as he always had done) as I sat the heated plate before him, thanking me for a "lovely breakfast." I sat beside him and watched as he relished his meal while I struggled to eat the toast I prepared for myself. When our eyes met, it was clear that he noticed I had no appetite and also that he knew why.

As he finished his breakfast, he rose from the table and went to brush his teeth and I waited for him at the door to the garage, his briefcase under my arm and my lips pursed for his kiss goodbye. But that morning was different from all the others that had gone before, I could muster no passion for that kiss. And as our lips parted, for a moment, a look of concern was in his eyes and I thought, perhaps now is the time to speak... I asked if he knew what tomorrow was, and a look of fear flashed across his face. And before I could say another word, he laid his index finger across my lips and said he knew. I brushed his finger aside and I asked him, "Dearest, what about your promise?" His reply, as he pulled me closer to him with both hands on my hips was, "Just don't think about it, Dear Heart."

He took his briefcase from beneath my arm, and then gave me the most passionless kiss we'd ever shared. He turned and walked through the door and I stood there in the doorway watching as the garage door opened. He got into the car and backed down the driveway and waved to me as the garage door closed while I wiped away the tears that spilled out of my eyes. By six o'clock that evening, the world was entirely upside down and my heart was finally rent in twain by the only one who could do so, the man I loved.

I am always remembering...

And my greatest fear is that I may not live long enough to forget.

Epilogue: Whenever I think of that day, I can hear this familiar and beloved song from my childhood playing in the back of my mind. As it turned out, I became the maiden...