Love, Dave

Standing in the check-out line,
she ordered a pack from behind the glass.
She had just enough in the bank
after a tank of regular gas.

His dull brown eyes
bored a hole in her head.
She felt it, so she turned around.
They locked eyes. His face turned red.

He stared at the floor.
She turned back around.
She paid for the cigarettes
and left without a sound.

As she sat there in front of the wheel,
she shamed herself again.
Hallucinations were her way
of dealing with the pain.

Still sitting in the parking lot,
she thought back on David's life.
Days when they weren't yet dating
and the day she became his wife.

His child and his love
and how much he loved to give.
The dreadful day of of the car accident
and the last few months he lived.

His mother's and his father's tears,
a waterfall of sorrow,
and her own dry eyes, unable,
but she kept think on tomorrow.

His final sentence before his death,
"I'll write you from my house."
How she knew he didn't know what he was saying.
How difficult to lose your spouse.

Her once-broken eyes,
were fully well now
as the memories turned to liquid,
filled her eyes, and rained down.

She opened the glove box
and reached for a tissue
before looking to the sky
and whispering, "I miss you!"

She pulled out a napkin
with letters scribbled neatly in ink.
She felt a little foolish
as her stomach began to sink.

With this very napkin,
she didn't touch her face,
but she kept it as evidence
of suffering grace.

The soft paper that she found
in the compartment had said,
"I know you think you're crazy for seeing me
because I am dead.

You're full sane,
and we'll meet again.
Tell Zack I love him,
and he doesn't have to hide the pain.

I told you I'd write you from my house,
and you thought I didn't know!
It's funny looking back,
but I really have to go.

Just know, I can hear you
when you say my name at night,
and inside, I can see
all the battles you fight.

I love you, Janet,
and never forget
that I'm with you and Zack
wherever you kneel, stand, or sit.

Love always,
Dave"