Whispers of Love

"Whispers of Love" (Rated: E)
Title: Whispers of Love
Description: Jamie, the alcoholic wants to die, but then again...
By: chip (1)


Whispers of Love


"Look out boy-watch it-swerve, swerve away- turn, turn the wheel. Give me the wheel son!" The vehicle with the boy and his father were crushed so badly the accident looked like a front line causality of war. They were demolished in a head on collision with a truck trying to pass a slow vehicle.

For over eight years, the wife and mother of the victims, Jamie Cardinal, suffered from stress. She was 48 at the time of the accident, and in her loneliness began attending parties and weekend getaways with girl friends. Fermented grain was the life of the party. They drank scotch, gin, vodka and tequila in a variety of mixtures, and they loved their intoxication more than hippies love their joints. None of the gals ever became too sick or passed out or even drove under the influence, but they did get so intoxicated that their breath reeked and their urinary whispers were voluminous. On sobering up, they couldn't remember how they got drunk.

Jamie became a puffy, slightly saggy and bulbous looking 51 year old and became worse as the years passed by. She lived in a small New York apartment scattered with shoes, purses and varying books, tapes and DVDs. It was at this age that she began to drink alone besides her weekend jaunts with her lady friends. She started by drinking only after six; soon she drank before noon, and her alcoholism progressed to where she had screw drivers for breakfast.

Jamie's life style remained much the same until she was 56 when she met a man she liked. Mel, an owner of a liquor store Jamie frequented, became interested in her and often struck up conversations. He soon asked her out, and they went to nice restaurants, enjoyed weekend picnics, took hikes in the country and went swimming once in awhile.

The two of them dated regularly as Jamie tried and tried to cut down on her habitual drinking. Mel brought her drinking up one evening while they walked around the nearby lake.

"Jamie, I realize the efforts you've put forth to drink less," said Mel. "I appreciate your suffering and commiserate with you; I also was an alcoholic for two years after my wife died. You'll get over it."

"You sweetheart," whispered Jamie. Tears wandered down her cheeks. "You beautiful sweetheart; I love you Mel."

"I love you too."

The next afternoon three senior ladies dropped into Mel's store. "May I help you?" asked Mel.

"We've been friends with Jamie for years, and she told us how happy you made her. We're deeply sorry about what has happened."

"What! What happened?"

"Jamie is dead sir; you came along too late. Her diary reads: 'Dear diary, I am so alone; I'm tired of living and am going to drink until death.'

This was written on August 15th, her 48th birthday. Jamie died of cirrhosis of the liver. The last entry written a few days ago reads, 'Dear diary, I don't want to die now, I don't want to die, dear Lord please, I want to live Lord; I love Mel don't let me die.'''

Mel whispered, "Jesus Christ, please. Please go. I …"

Mel's tears welled up, and he cried as a father seeing his only daughter turn to drugs.