Saying Goodbye

Saying goodbye to a lost love.

Small waves crashed their way up onto the beach to surround my feet and reach the bottom of my Capri pants. The salty wind blew my curly light auburn hair back and I could taste the mist of the ocean on my lips. I pulled my periwinkle cardigan around me tighter as I watched the sun kiss the water’s edge; my nightly ritual since John had gone off to sea almost two years ago while a soft tear streaked down my cheek.

Many nights I pondered how he was and the things he was doing. Was he thinking of me while on board his navy ship? Once in awhile I would get a letter where he described his daily duties or about a fellow mate; always ending his letter, “With Love, John.” The letters stopped last August as the heat of the summer was finding its close. Two naval officers came to my doorstep with sorrowful expressions of a matter they have expressed one too many times. One handed me a letter that was found on John addressed to me that he had just written prior to the vessel being attacked. The ship had survived the attack; however, John and a few of his mates didn’t.

The letter was still almost fresh with a tint of red fingerprints smeared on the front. It was his last wish for me to have it. The officer told me John had said, “Make sure Terry gets this letter” before he died. With shaking hands I took it and held it till they left. Slowly I closed the door after them and crashed to the ground clutching the letter in disbelief. My whole body shook with pain and sorrow. I couldn’t believe he was gone. It took two weeks for me to even open the letter. Each time I tried, I would get it open just a little further. I was afraid that if I had opened the letter all the way and read it, he would be gone from me completely. If I didn’t read it, a part of him would still be alive and well in my heart because I didn’t release him.

As I read the letter, I imagined him on his ship sitting at a desk; occasionally looking up as a crew mate walked by and made some comment and laughed. He was still alive to me. He told me how he missed our beach and sitting underneath the twin umbrellas soaking in the sun while drinking our cocktails. He missed touching my soft skin, or looking deep within my light blue eyes, and how he was looking forward to coming home in a week. Little did he know.

I pulled out the sealed bottle from my sweater pocket. Inside I had put his letter and a letter I wrote him telling him of my love for him and how he would always be in my heart. I told him how I looked forward to being with him again and missed the way his hand caressed my cheek and the way he looked deep into my eyes like I held the answer to all his prayers. I looked at the bottle once more and threw it as far as I could.

The tide was receding and the bottle bounced up and down as it drifted then vanished from my view like a hand pulled it under. I watched the waves longer until I could barely see the glimmer of the moon shining down upon the water. I looked up at the heavens, closed my eyes, held my hand to my heart, and said my final goodbye to John.

When I reached my house I wiped a final tear from my eye and took a deep breath. I open the door and greeted Aaron my new boyfriend. “How is he?” I asked.

“He is still asleep. Are you ok?” I could hear the concern in his voice. Aaron had been so supportive and understood what I went through. He was the one who recommended the letter to John as a way to find some closure to move on with my life. Something I had been so resistant to in the past. But he was right, I did feel better.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I placed my hand on his cheek and then walked back into the back bedroom where my five month old son laid quietly in his crib. I looked down at him with watchful eyes and noticed his hair was the same color as his father’s. I placed my hand softly on his back and whispered, “Sleep well my little John.” A few moments passed and I went to the door and started to close it. I turned around and continued, “You have a wonderful life ahead of you. And so do I.” Then quietly I went back into the front room. I was done with saying goodbye.

(887 words)