Home | Self Improvement | Grief-loss
I remember Ed. And how I remember Ed! Let the world know I didn't have a good marriage, I had a great marriage. Life with Ed was one big date."Where do you want to go for dinner, Lin?" "What errands do you need to run, Hon?" "Do you need anything from the store? I'll get it." "Don't get out of bed. I'll walk Izzy."It was a warm afternoon on the streets of Hong Kong. He was tired. I was not. I didn't want to go back to our hotel. I insisted we explore some more. We were someplace in Central when I stopped and looked in a store window. White veiled porcelain dolls dressed in white satin crinoline gowns lined the shelves.I said, "Did I tell you I never had a bride doll when I was a little girl?" I can still feel the warmth of Ed's hand in mine. I said, "I never had any dolls."It was after we returned from China, after the jet lag, after the snow had melted, it was one week later Ed arrived home from work. He was tired, hungry, and he toted a black canvas sack over one shoulder. He looked like Santa Claus. He said, "Follow me." And I tagged him up the flight of stairs to our bedroom wondering what the heck was in that sack.Dolls.Dolls.And more dolls.Dolls with shiny braids. Dolls with pony tails ribboned with flowers. Dolls with banana curls. And like a patchwork quilt, they were spread out on our bed. They had painted faces with apple cheeks, and painted lips with eyes like marbles, and eyes with lashes curled and trimmed, and eyes that blinked like a neon sign. One doll was dressed in red plastic boots, red plastic slicker, and red plastic rain hat and it carried a red plastic umbrella; one doll was dressed in a sun dress the color of daffodils, and clutched a matching straw hat, streamed with ribbons, trimmed in white daisies. One doll wore horn rimmed glasses and carried a leather knapsack with tiny books inside it.One doll, two dolls, three dolls, more.And in the middle of that porcelain parade was the most magnificent doll of all--yes, you guessed it--a b-r-i-d-e doll.Her dress was white satin, trimmed in white lace, and she wore a white veil that covered her face. Her hair had curls and her curls had pearls. She stood 2' tall, and she carried a bouquet of white roses with a trail of white ivy tied neatly in a white satin bow.When I stopped screaming, I cried--tears of joy.It is 1,021 days since Ed died. 1,021 days since I held Ed in my arms. 1,021 days since Ed's lips touched mine. Not a day goes by I don't remember Him, or the dolls He gave me.They are my children now. They line a shelf in what use to be our bedroom. The bride doll is my pride and joy. Often I look at her and recall what was, what might have been.I will never forget Edward Louis Sclier, the man who married me, the way he loved me back, the wonderful things he did for me. I treasure the precious memories we shared.It’s not easy losing a life partner. But in the game of life, stuff happens. In a blip of time, lives are forever changed. Somehow, we carry on, we grow. And, we learn to accept what we cannot change. Because we know in order to survive, we must.
Article Source: http://www.new.citynewslive.com
Linda Della Donna supports new widows through the grief process. Della Donna makes her home 20 miles from where the World Trade Center used to be with her small dog Izzy and his little cat Tux. You can receive a copy of Della Donna’s FREE E-Book, Treasury of Quotations, by sending an email to littleredmailbox@aol.com - Learn more about Della Donna by visiting her web site - www.littleredmailbox.com - and reading her blog - www.griefcase.blogspot.com - Perhaps you have a writing assignment. Feel free to contact Della Donna at linda@littleredmailbox.com
Please Rate this Article
5 out of 54 out of 53 out of 52 out of 51 out of 5
Not yet Rated
