We Deserved More Time

Dear, I’m sorry.

We Deserved More Time

I meant what I said—oh those many years ago when I promised you the moon and stars and days filled with rich foods and sweet drink, but then came the hard work of making a living and honestly honey, how much of the world can we see with just two weeks of vacation each year. You understood. Of course you did. You were the frugal one, the one who set budgets and banked paychecks for unseen emergencies. So we shelved our travel plans, packing our dreams into folders marked “beach house,” “Europe,” and “Yosemite.”

For a while we enjoyed weekends in cottages borrowed from friends. But the days were too few and besides, the boys needed us at scout meetings, on ball fields, and in the kitchen where you made our house a home. Here, look at this photo. Here you are sitting on the sea wall in St. Thomas. See that smile? See how, even with the glare of the tropical sun in your eyes, you’re still beaming with that carefree smile that now sags, thin and pale.

There was hope for a time after the boys left for college, but then our parents became sick and then the grandkids… my God, think of them. Would you really have wanted to exchange their laughter and cooing for a few months in the vineyards of Tuscany?

Before I heard—before the oncologist called—I was dusting off those dreams. I wanted to see if we could recapture the magic we’d enjoyed oh those years ago. But now it’s too late. Now there’s only you and me and each day there is less of you.

Were we to leave right now it would be too late. So we won’t. We’ll stay right here in this room, on this bed, among the deepening shadows that diminish the light in your eyes. All that is left is the moon and stars and they are not enough.

Oh dear, I am sorry. Please forgive me. When you said I do, I didn’t. I didn’t take you to the pyramids and glaciers and mountaintops like I promised. You deserved more. You deserved the world.

We deserved more time.