Crrrreak.
Crrrreak.
The rocking chair rocked back and forth in a squeaky manner. I reached my hand up and felt my graying, diminishing hair and pushed the fringes behind my ears.

I reached my hand out to feel the old, green corduroy chair, right where he used to sit. I thought I saw his body sitting there, holding a warm glass of coffee as it leaked its aroma around the room. I reached out to feel the gruff whiskers that I loved so much, but my hand passed through his face as if he had never even been there.

I tried to say good morning to him, but his face disappeared from his favorite chair as fast I had seen it.

I knew dear Walter wasn’t coming back, but the emptiness he had given me was now destroying my faith for what life had once promised.

The room was dark, Walter used to open the blinds, but they won’t open themselves. As I rocked backwards I could feel the memory pass over me again…

“Marietta!”

“Hmph.”

Walter hadn’t opened the blinds yet this morning and a part of wanted to go in that room and-

“Marietta!” He called again, this time with a sense of urgency hiding behind his voice.

Suddenly forgetting about him not opening the blinds, I ran to our bedroom when I heard the panic coming from him.

I burst into the room and saw Walter, laying there on the cold floor, gasping for breath.

“Marietta… I… Lo… Lo… Love… You.”

Suddenly, I felt the tears sting my eyes, and I thought, NO, this wasn’t happening. But as his limp hand fell out of mine and slipped onto the floor, I knew that it was true…

“Ah!” I screamed, frightened by the return of his death replaying in my mind.

Wearily, I glanced back over at his corduroy chair, but still Walter was not there.

My fraying hairs slid into my eyes, and I swatted them away with my trembling fingers that were old and wrinkly.

I felt my hollow soul empty out even more with the pain the last relapse of his death had brought me.

Suddenly, I felt like I understood.

It has been six years since Walter left, and not only has he been missing from my life, but so has my soul.

When he passed, a little piece of me died, and every time I thought about it the more pieces of me died. Eventually, my whole soul had been devoured.

I was missing out on life.

My fingers trembled, and my old legs shook.

The rocking chair stopped rocking.

Right now, today, I had to gain back a piece of my soul.

And so, with age on my feet pulling me down, I walked over to the blinds and pulled them open slowly, giving them enough time to let the daylight sink in.

As my heart glowed a little bit I only thought one thing:

Goodbye Walter.

Goodbye.

Today, I get my soul back.