Inspired by
Kristine's blog, I went into my garage, found my video camera, recharged the battery and set out to find something funny to record. But alas, it was late in the day and the only thing worth recording was the season finale of "Desperate Housewives." But amidst all of the camera supplies and accessories, I found a tape. There was no label on the tape, but it clearly had something on it, for it had not been rewound. So I popped the tape into the camera, turned up the volume and was taken aback by what I saw. Actually, it was what I heard that stopped my heart for just one second: "Merry Widow, I love you."
There he was. My husband. Looking straight into the camera, smiling, and talking to me. I hadn't heard his voice in almost 3 years. In fact, I had forgotten his voice. I had forgotten how deep it was, how caring it was, how loving it was. I had forgotten that look that he would give me which always let me know that he had devoted his life to loving me. I had forgotten that his smile could make me melt in an instant. I had forgotten that his soul could reach deep down into my heart and make me feel like I was safe and protected.
I watched the entire tape. Nothing too exciting was going on in our lives at that time. I was just bored one day and had decided to film my husband doing mundane things around our apartment. I filmed him watching TV. I filmed him dancing. I filmed him making a sandwhich. I filmed him petting the cat. I filmed him taking a nap. All stuff that would be boring for most people to watch, but when I found this tape it had brought back a part of me that was the happiest time of my life. It was my life before this blog, my life before my adventures of being single, my life before I was a
widow.
And after I watched the entire tape, laughing at his silliness, smiling back as he smiled at me, crying when I heard him tell me that he loved me, I did something that I never would have imagined doing. I erased the tape.
I don't know why I felt compelled to do it. I didn't even think twice about it. I just did it. And even though I don't regret my decision, I can't, for the life of me, figure out why I did it. Is it because I'm ready to really move on? Is it because I don't want to be reminded of what I once had? Of what I lost? I just don't know.
Three months before my husband died, he told me that when he died, he wanted me to move on. He didn't want me to be sad. He wanted me to go out into the world, find someone to love and to love me back. He wanted me to be happy. And I remember being appalled by his statements. I couldn't and wouldn't dare think of a life without him, let alone with another man. But he made me promise him, right then and there, that I would follow through with his request.
And as one year turned into two, and as two years approach three since his death, I have found myself honoring his wishes. I have ventured out into the world, at first tentatively and fearful, but eventually with my head held high, confident and ready to conquer anything that life threw at me. And even though I haven't yet found love, I have once again found happiness. And more importantly, I have found hope.
Maybe, somehow, someway, my husband came down from heaven, perched himself on my shoulder, and whispered into my ear, "Merry Widow, I love you. Erase the tape. For the only way for you to truly find love is to let go of me." It's the only explanation that I can think of that would make me erase that tape. Will it work? Only time will tell. But despite the erased tape, I don't think that my husband's love will ever be erased from my heart, mind, or soul. And for that, I am forever grateful.
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