Picture the fifties and a cute blond college sophomore in a poodle skirt. The dimpled cheek girl took a breath and said Yes to the boy in dark hair, who loved her. She hugged his neck. The boy was me seventy years ago. The girl would become my wife.
Weathered rough times but still hung together for family of six children. Two years ago, she died. I should have gone first. Not fair.
My age-spotted arm and knotted arthritic fingers reach for the Nitroglycerin. My chest hurts. I stop—withdraw my hand. Two years is enough. Time to say hello again.
Author Notes: M.D. Smith, IV lives in Huntsville, AL. He has written over 150 short non-fiction stories in the past 20 years for Old Huntsville Magazine. He’s written over 200 fiction stories in the past three years, and nationally published in both Good Old Days and Reminisce Magazines and in Like Sunshine After Rain (Anthology.)