White Wine and Winter Skies
Purples, reds, oranges and yellows covered the setting sun, a sight a painter longs for. The air was mist and fresh from the previous rain; tiny drops of water still
remained in the glittering grass. A seventy year old man walked safely towards the newly made gravestone covered by upturned piles of mud now wet. Tracing his fragile fingers along the flowers he
had bought three white roses her favorites he thought. Placing them down his eyes lingered on the snow shaped tombstone: Rene Walsh 1940-2009 blessed wife RIP.
The elderly man laid an old blanket on the wet floor next to his deceased wife, sitting down he poured himself a cup of white wine. He reminisced his blessed times
with his wife, the time he lent her his jacket, the first ever touch and how that has sent him up to the sky. How he felt now without her by his side, the emptiness taking over his heart
The old man also recalled of the negative sides on how he saw his girl with another man murdered him both on the inside and out, how this has left him like a broken
record, how he wished to attempt suicide. Being rejected once was surely a sign of not wanted. Solitary at the age of eighteen he found out his reasons for being at this planet.
The aged man was drowned into his flashback memories as if it has been put in a box deep down in the attic long forgotten.
40 years earlier
“Mr. Walsh, could you please report to the main reception thank you” a familiar voice boomed from the speakers. Being woken up from his slumber Mr. Walsh shuffled out
into the hallways. A whole atmosphere different to his safe haven resides outside his office. The strong hospital smell of peroxide and medicine overtook his senses. Passing by the busy colleagues,
he made his way towards the reception. Taking the clipboard off the table he skimmed through the never ending list of patients he would have today. One certain name caught his eye Rene
“Rene Blessing could it be?” he said as if never believing this name existed before. Shaking his head he proceeded to room 108.
“Mr. Walsh you have got a pat...” said his overweight secretary but was interrupted by
Mr. Walsh harsh voice “Not now”.
Once again he carried on with his hunt. Standing outside room 108 he was unsure of what to do. Surely it could not be her, and the idea of her having a husband and
children made him fractious. Either way she seemed dead to him a dead end full of rejection and despondency, he just couldn’t bring himself down to be rejected twice. Grasping the handle unsure of
what to do he went inside. His breath was caught inside his mouth there she was
The one and only he loved but how could he tell her. Her long raven hair hung loosely around her round face, sucked in cheekbones visible showing signs of
malnutrition, a face so pale looking like a dead ghost, glittering hazel eyes looking up at him. A wave of heat washed over him but he made sure not to glance at her way.
Taking a chair he sat next to her, no way would she have remembered him.
“Hi I’m Doctor Walsh” he said in a welcoming tone. Years of masking his pain off have finally paid over.
“Rene” she replied in a squat manner.
“I see here that you have neck stiffness and headaches, how long have you had that for?” he asked her
“Two weeks now I don’t know what it is yet though I’m waiting for a reply” she whispered. He had to strain his ears to be able to her what she said.
“Any other symptoms rash bumps?”
"I don’t think so just been tired lately". He reached for his stethoscope and placed it on her heart.
“Now if you could please breath in and out, yes that’s right...a couple more of that thanks” moving the stethoscope around her delicate yet fragile body he felt for
her lungs and the difficulty in them taking in the oxygen.
“I’m going to issue you blood test to see what is causing this” looking up he met her eyes; yes he thought the same glittering hazel eyes. He could feel his head
spinning round, the sweaty hands holding the stethoscope; any minute now they would fall. He heard a faint gasp escaping from those cherry yet delicate lips.
“Are you ...?” she stopped in midsentence trying to remember who this handsome man was.
“I didn’t think you would remember” he managed to say whilst still in shock. He could feel his love being re-united, reframed, and restarted in his heart all over
“Yeah me neither...I’m sorry for distracting you”
“No, no I’m going to get the nurse to take a few blood samples of you. Her question knocked him back to the hospital, bolting straight up he raced to the door. A faint
whisper slammed him to the floor thinking if his brain was deceiving him.
“I’m sorry did you need anything” he asked turning around, he just wanted to escape this room that held so many confusion, memories and blunt forms of reality. Her
cheeks turned a solid red, and she buried herself further down on the hospital bed.
“Sorry, I-I still have your jacket” the words hit him like a tornado without warning.No
Words could explain how he felt. His heart was yet again burning alive.
They spent most of the countless summers together showing each other their love they have for one another. Sipping white wine and exchanging well know laughs and
smiles. Never in his life did he think of her being his, his love getting lost and then found this was like a game to him. He knew from that day on he would marry her. He led her to the first place
they met each other. Three months it has taken him to create the perfect proposal. On December the third he asked for her acceptance. Her cheeks were rosy her lips the colour of cherry. All in one
motion he turned around to her, getting down in one knee and asking for her future.
From this day on his heart lived without getting lost. Getting the privilege to wake up in the morning to the most beautiful angel in the world, to watch her delicate
face wrinkle, her raven hair turn white, her smooth hands turn into flimsy ones , yet that didn’t mean anything thing to him because he was the happiest man on this planet.
Her battle with meningitis was lost after forty years; he didn’t mind any of that as he had his fair share with life on this planet with her.
He has been with her through good and bad times, through sickness and health. Who could have guessed that the same reason she was brought back into his life was the
same reason she was taken out of it?
He was brought back to reality as a raindrop fell upon his check. He looked up, no raindrops where in sight but only a pale and gray colour only winter sky possesses
surrounded him. He realized that it was his own tears that brought him back, his tears that held so many reasons of loving her, his tears that always helped him recall all the memories, his tears
that were calling her back home.
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