Taking a deep breath, Claudia calmed her nerves and picked up Abe’s letter once again.
It was always my intent to outlive you my love so that you never had to face the pain and sorrow of my passing alone. Because I know you my dearest love, you have isolated yourself from family and friends and have suppressed your grief and anger until everyone truly believed you were alright. I know you, I know you’re sobbing as you struggle to read this through your tears. Let it go love, cry and let the emotion out before it eats you alive.
Claudia read the last sentence and despite her valiant efforts to control the crying, the gut wrenching tears and loneliness returned. She fled her comfortable chair and got up and went into their bedroom. She grabbed her stuffed lamb she had since childhood and curled up on Abe’s side of the bed and just let the grief and tears consume her. She made no effort to stifle the sobs or bury the anger. She clutched Lambie and Abe’s pillow and cried herself to sleep.
Claudia awoke a couple of hours later, still curled up on Abe’s side of the bed. She inhaled deeply and a wave of loneliness hit her as she realized that his scent had almost completely faded from the pillow. Lacking the energy to scream her refusal to accept she would never again smell her husband’s scent was just one small sign of acceptance of his death. Claudia sat up and headed for the shower. She was tired and sore from the tension and emotional roller coaster of the last month. On the spur of the moment, she turned on the tub and decided a good soak would relax her. As the tub filled, Claudia jumped into the shower and washed her hair. Her hair was wrapped in a soft, fluffy turquoise towel as she eased herself into the steaming hot, vanilla scented bathwater.
Squeaky made an appearance but fled as soon as he realized that the bathtub was full. Claudia smiled at his predictable behavior and sank further into the blistering heat of the bath. The hot water worked miracles on her tense and sore muscles and slowly the pent up emotional energy seeped from her into the bathwater. As she sat there, letting the water melt away the tension Claudia smiled slowly to herself.
Abe loved to take baths, he could soak in the tub for hours without reading a book or listening to a ball game. Claudia, on the other hand, had to read or listen to a ball game if she had any chance of staying in a bath for more than twenty minutes. Abe used to come in with a luscious Lemon Drop and perch on the side of the tub and talk on those rare occasion when Claudia took a bath during their marriage. She always knew he was trying to delay her into soaking longer but they both knew the stall tactic only worked as long as her drink lasted. It was a pleasant and happy memory, no hint of sadness.
As she stepped from the tub and wrapped herself in a matching towel, Claudia shook her graying hair free from its towel. Quickly bringing some semblance of order to her hair, Claudia dried herself off and climbed into a pair of her lounge around and do nothing pajama pants and a t-shirt. These particular pajama pants were flannel and covered in owls dancing on branches and she had pulled on one of Abe’s t-shirts without thinking about it. It came half-way down her thigh and was much to large for her, but it was comforting and familiar.
Her bare feet were soundless as the sank into the plush carpet, and once again Claudia was very thankful she had “won” that argument with Abe. Abe’s letter had tumbled to the floor when she fled the room several hours ago. Picking up the letter, she realized for the first time that it was several pages in length as the moonlight started to flood the room. Her curiosity was now much stronger than the emotional torment the letter represented. What could have been so important that Abe, not known for his handwritten letters, would write one to her from the grave? She settled back into her chair and turned on her lamp so that she could read the letter.
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