A pain stricken widow holds on to her feelings of loss and recieves something special.
|It was raining at 5:30pm and Dianne sat sulking in her chair at the dinner table with her two daughters joining her. She mused while poking the lasagna that had taken her an hour and half to make. Joanne, the older took notice of her mother’s dejection and knew why she was so sad.
“Mom, I know how you feel; I miss them both as well. They died for a most noble reason, their country.”
“So I’ve been told over and over, but that does not help the pain at all. I loved your father and brother more than you can understand at seventeen.”
Joanne shook her head and raised her voice slightly. “That isn’t true. When the war ended in 2012 and dad and Mike did not come back from Iraq I cried just as much as you did and it still hurts but as I come to terms with the situation more and more I do understand it.”
Dianne was silent for a few moments before she drifted off and looked at her younger daughter Melissa. “I envy Melissa; such a young, joyful soul; so simple and oblivious to the complications of life. It must be great to be eight.”
Suddenly the phone rang and Dianne picked it up, it was the voice of a middle aged man who spoke with concern. “Dianne, I’m calling to check up on you. It’s Memorial Day and I know there are still some emotions affecting you more so than you should be. I am your brother after all.”
“Thanks Nick. People, keep telling me to be proud of them and it was a worthy cause but it is not that simple. Sometimes I feel like they could come walking through the door any minute.”
“A lot of people lost loved ones during Operation Enduring Freedom,” Nick said. “Ron and your son Mike loved you and everyone in America. Something that might comfort you is that many individuals feel your pain. Will you be going to pay your respects tonight?”
“Yes, “Dianne said.
“Try connecting with someone there. It may help to share your feelings.”
“Okay, well I have to go. I appreciate the call.”
“Any time Dianne.”
When she hung up, Dianne reached for her rain coat and picked up some driving keys off the coffee table and said a quick word before she left. “I’ll be back soon, look after your sister.” Then she bolted out into the downpour. When she got into her small blue sedan she took off towards the cemetery. As she drove sadness turned to bitterness and Dianne began to make coarse thoughts to God if there was one.
“Oh, God why? If you exist and you really do care for people why do you allow things like this to happen? I loved them both so much. If it were not for my daughters I would have wished to die with my husband and son. What good purpose could exist in tearing them out of my life?"
As she parked into the cemetery driveway, she saw folks with umbrellas at gave stones, some standing while others knelt. Dianne reached behind her seat and grabbed her own umbrella and got out into the rain. She walked along the sidewalk near the fence and noticed something; there was a young man in his twenties at the Mike’s grave.
Dianne approached the person and questioned him. “Excuse me but how did you know this individual?”
The man held back tears as he replied. “He was my best friend in the war. He was like a brother to me. Who are you?”
“I’m…I was his mother.”
“You should be proud, he was a good soldier and he loved all the people who he did not even know.”
The young man saw the grief in her eyes and he put his hand on her shoulder. “Things will get better.” After those simple words he left her to privacy.
For a good while she stood in the rain until she noticed a small leather covered box at the base of the stone. She grabbed it and took the lid off that revealed a letter and read it aloud.
“I know your pain and your grief and your tender heart. You were created with a sensitive soul and you would never abandon anyone. In this world there will always be suffering but realize there is hope after catastrophe. One day the pain will cease and joy will once again dawn in your life. Also take heart that you will see them again and suffering will be broken in that day.
Dianne fell to her knees in joyful tears most of all that her son and husband were not lost and that she would see them again.
“Ron and Mike, wait for me.”