What’s behind the door? Which door? The door to memories.
A place set aside, residing in mind and heart. Large in its expanse, with doors lined at times evenly others in random spaces. Evoking thoughts of a comedy with a hallway lined with doors. Where the characters run in and out, doors slamming behind. But this is my memory and I am that character.
At any given moment, on any given day, I will open a door and reminisce. What’s behind the door before me, what memory lies within? Could it be of childhood games, times with grandparents long gone, or fetching fresh vegetables from Grandpa’s garden? Memories of school times and summer times and everything in between. Memories that bring a smile and a warmth to the heart.
There are days though, I pass by doors that I prefer to keep locked. The chains and bolts heavy and secure. Behind those doors are the nightmares I’ve faced and survived. Dark days that hold no fear, and taught many lessons, but I see no reason to bring out for perusal.
But this door, this door is different. Why you ask, is this one door so different? What’s behind the door, this door, that makes it special? Behind this door, are all the memories of a special love. A love cut short, with a life taken too soon. Ah my love, Just the thought of you, turns my whole world misty blue.I still have your photos, gracing this room. One taped to the side of this desk so all I need do is look up, and there you are. With the passing of time, this coming March will be four years, the pain has lessened. I no longer stand at the gate, straining to hear, excited to hear that big diesel engine pulling down the road. But I hear it in my heart. When I open the door, the sound echoes within.
My heart remembers the feeling of being held close in your arms. Safe and secure from the outside world. I remember the feel of your breath on my skin and your kiss on my lips. Your laughter and teasing at my fears over trivial things. If I’m honest, I even remember the times that were not so good. The struggles, the arguments and times you were deliberately annoying.
Most days now, your memory is a gentle one. A blanket on a cool evening, a light in the dark, a smile when one is needed. Thirty-four years together is a long time, filled with so many memories. Thoughts that can bring a return to the feelings of loss, abandonment and a loneliness so thick and complete it is difficult to struggle through. A lonely feeling I fight to escape.
Deep in my heart, I know I’ve tried. The good thing, where I know I am deeply blessed, is with the friends who care. Who see when the door has been opened and the sadness has taken hold. Seeing, hearing, reading their words of encouragement, tossing me that life saver, when I feel as if I am drowning in that sea of despair.
To those friends, I offer this message, from the depth and breadth of my heart. Here is a message that you should be hearing daily. Thank you for doing what you do. Thanks to you, I can acknowledge what’s behind the door, and close it with a gentle click and walk away in peace.
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