Speak to me

I woke up that morning to the sounds of the ocean. I sat on the veranda, looking at the ocean. I thought about the beauty of the ocean. Jamaica’s waters always looked good, light blue and clean. It was nothing like the oceans in America. The waves were strong that morning, stronger than the day before. Then I wondered who controlled the ocean. I always thought God did and left it at that. Not this day, though; this day was full of questions.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “What do you think?” I answered with an attitude. He told me he was sorry and never thought this would ever happen. I told him to leave me alone since he was good at leaving anyway. I knew that hurt but at that point I really didn’t care. I was mad. “I yelled, “Why!” He didn’t answer. All I heard was silence.
“I love you, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said. “But it doesn’t make this any easier.” I felt a warm breeze cover my body. I took the feeling and embraced it and embraced myself. “Thanks for the hug,” I said with a smile on my face.
“I like your hair. I never saw you look so good.”
I laughed and said, “Well enjoy it. Hopefully I will never have to look this good again.” He told me it was time for him to go and time for me to get ready. “I’ll see you shortly. Soon this will be all over,” he told me. Before I could answer, he was gone.
I went in and dressed. I wore a white shirt and a long black skirt. The white represented the pureness of the day. The black stood for the evil of the day. I made sure my shoes were comfortable. I knew this was going to be a long day. The last thing I wanted was to have my feet hurt. I looked in the mirror and smiled. At least he likes how I look, I thought.
When I arrived he was already there. I walked over to the car her was in and touched it. I spoke with the driver; he was pleasant. Enough small talk, I thought. Why are we still outside? He told me there was a mix up with the time schedule but we would be starting in thirty minutes. I asked the driver if there was any way he could get out of the car. It was so hot; I knew he had to be burning up. The man looked at me and said, “Miss, he is doing better than you or I.”
Finally it was time to go in. I kissed my son and gave him to my mother. This was no place for him. As I look at Ken, I thought he looked good. This was the most handsome he had ever looked. I knew he was pleased with what I had chosen for him. He always liked to look neat and smell good. He wore a black collarless shirt, olive dress pants, a very dressy olive and black vest and a pair of black dress shoes. He smelled of his favorite cologne. I always like how he smelled, but I didn’t remember telling him that I did.
As I got closer to him, tears started to run down my face. I tried not to let them form, but there was no use in trying to stop them. I kissed his lips. They were much harder than they usually were, but I did not care. I just wanted that one final kiss. I said thanks for this morning and I will love you forever. As I turned and walked away, the minister closed the casket.
That was the last time I saw my husband, but it was not our last talk. There is not a month that goes by that we don’t talk to each other. He lets me know he is around me in many ways. My alarm clock will go off when it is not set to go off. My phone will ring while there is a dial tone. Even the radio will change to his favorite station when it is off.
And on each of my children’s birthdays, I smell him wearing his favorite cologne. Every time he comes around I talk to him. I tell him how I am doing, and how things are going with the kids. We talk about lots of things. Some people May say I do these things to make myself feel better. Some people say that I am crazy. I say once you love a person they never leave you; even after death, they are still with us. They are in our hearts and minds forever. Some of them just want more attention after they have died then they did when they were living.