A Letter…

Where did you go to?

You used to say that the Caribbean was heaven on earth. Are you there now? Are you in the Caribbean of heaven? I hope so, you deserve it, and it deserves you.

Remember when?

Remember when we used to go hunting discarded drinks bottles in the snow? We’d return them for the deposit, and then buy a new box of candles with the proceeds. A light to see by at night, and the illusion of warmth. Sharing a sleeping bag helped to keep us warm in the dark, remember that? Remember when the zip got stuck and we couldn’t get out? You were desperate for the loo, and it was a close run thing, but we managed to get out before it was too late.

Remember how we’d wish for an endless summer? Long lazy days, long light evenings, long warm nights. But all too soon autumn would come, forests lit with the cool fire of another changing season. And then winter, descending with a roar, stealing our warmth, making visible our life’s own breath.

We had it all, we had that endless summer, we had the paradise on earth.

But… but.

Winter was too strong, we trembled before its coming, we froze and crumbled. What was past would never be repeated. What was to come would never be fulfilled. You had to go, it was your time. Winter demanded its sacrifice, and you were the one.

Is it summer where you are now? I hope so. I hope you have the golden light you always strove for. I always imagine that you do. I imagine you warm, at peace. It keeps my own cold at bay, it keeps my own winter at arms length.

And our finest creation, is he there with you? The young man who took your beauty and multiplied it by a thousand, is he by your side on your journey? I close my eyes and I can see you both, arm in arm, smiling at each other. I gaze up into the night sky and I can see your faces etched in the stars. Mother and son, some kind of beautiful.

Turn your frown upside down. Each time I consider joining you, leaving my own winter behind, I remember your words. You would say that endlessly, over and over, so much it could become annoying. But now you say it louder, and you say it with a passion. You want me here, you want me happy. You want me to turn my frown upside down.

And I will. I will honour your memory. I will honour you, my wife. I will honour you, my son. We were one, we were free. Now you’re gone that hasn’t altered. We will always be young. We will always be ‘we three’.

I miss you, you know.

Every damn minute of every damn day.

A letter written by Sam, to his wife Kate. From ‘Romany Skies’, part one of the Sam Creedy Chronicles.

Copyright ©
Alen B Curtiss 2013
Moscow Mule Media 2013


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