When All Is Said

by Anne Griffin

‘I’m here to remember – all that I have been and all that I will never be again.’

Now, son, you know I’m not one for sentimentality but I swear to God the woman just took my breath away.

I knew for certain then, that there, sitting across the red Formica table, with the perfectly placed condiments, was the woman I was ready to love until the life went out of me.

In all our years I never stopped wanting her. Never. Not for one moment. Not for one second. I watched her skin survive the years, softly, folding upon itself. I touched it often, still hopelessly loving every bit of her, every line that claimed her, every new mark that stamped its permanency.

Eleven o’clock and all is well. Time to go, so much to tell.

It’s a risk, I know. Perhaps there is no heaven. Perhaps she won’t be there with open arms. But anything, anything has to be better than this life without her.

‘Sadie, are you there? Are you ready? It’s me – Maurice. Can I come home?’