How Time Cannot Heal Everything
Waking up to an empty bed – even in the dead of night – was nothing out of the ordinary for Harry, being the husband of a pediatric night nurse. The first instinct was to blindly reach for his mobile that sat beside the bed, hope filling his chest for a simple little text from his wife that waited for him. But when he turned on his back, about to retrieve the device, the sleep that fogged his mind quickly faded.
It was the early hours of a Friday; this meant his hand shouldn’t have met her abandoned side of the bed.
Harry peeled his tired eyes open, blinking rapidly to adjust to the darkness that greeted him. Once he could make out the shadows of their bedroom, his head shifted towards her empty side and his brows furrowed together when his eyes landed on the clock.
4:12AM
Then the significance of the day dawned on him and the confusion of her absence was gone.
Harry briefly shut his eyes and sighed while running a hand down his face, passing across the stubble at his jaw. He took a moment to collect his thoughts while staring into the darkness, a frown deepening when the faint notes of a haunting melody reached his ears.
Tossing back the covers, Harry let out another sigh – the concerned sound mirroring the worry lines above his brows – and slipped out of the warmth of the bed. On the way to the door, he pat the sleepy husky that lay at the foot of bed who had woken up with his movements. “Stay here, mama.“
Betsy obliged like the obedient puppy she sometimes was. And when her heavy eyelids slipped shut, Harry made his way towards the softly singing music.
Anna sat at the piano; a vision of a tortured and gentle soul stroking the keys with such grace and care. A sadness washed over him at the sight of her slightly curved forward shoulders, and even though her head was bowed, it did nothing to hide the grief that he knew was there on her face.
Anna could feel him there the moment he stepped up to the doorway. She could always sense his presence as soon as he walked into a room, no matter how quiet his steps had been. It was the strange intense emotion that shot through her when he was near – their strong undeniable connection making her pulse race. She felt it now – even in this state.
Harry immediately began to move over to her tense form when she slid across the bench to make room; welcoming him. Not once did the playing stop. The unhurried, calculated steps seemed to take longer than normal, but Harry was cautious, not wanting to disrupt her way of coping with the day.
He came to a stop at her back and instead of taking the empty seat beside her, he remained on his feet, placing his hands on her shoulders to give her a comforting squeeze. Almost instantly, he felt her relax and he continued to knead the bunched up muscles at her shoulders and neck with his strong and loving hands, freeing a deep sigh she could no longer suppress.
Her body was exhausted; heavy and achy. Anna didn’t remember how long it had been since the vivid dreams shocked her out of sleep, but it was long enough for Harry to notice her absence.
At first she had tried to cuddle up next to his warm body, praying for a peaceful sleep as she listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat. It was fruitless. With every passing second, the distress grew to consume every cell, every atom, until she could no longer bare to lay still.
In an attempt to lift her spirits, she turned to the piano. She had hoped to chase the dreams and memories away by playing an uplifting tune, something he would have been delighted to hear. But once she sat on the bench, fingers poised over the waiting keys, the old familiar weeping melody began pouring out of her torn being.
A coldness settled inside her shaken bones and spread throughout her body, whether it was from the devastation of the day or from the chill of the December’s night, she didn’t know. All she could feel was the bitter temperature and the coldness the memories of this day always brought.
Harry felt the shiver that shook her and formed goosebumps on her skin. His hands moved from her shoulders, his palms slowly smoothing down her arms as his form hunched over and towered over her. Resting his chin on top of her knotted curls, he cast his eyes on her delicate fingers gliding over the white and black singing keys. He had heard her play this piece before, but this time her angelic voice didn’t pair with the notes like it had done previously. Laying his long fingers over hers, he let her play, Anna taking him with her through the depressing piece.
Today marked the tenth year anniversary of her brother’s passing.
Although she could recall the wonderful pastimes with Benjamin, the only memories she seemed to be able to remember on this day each year was the fall; the end of a life she could never get back. A life where everything was simple, and safe, and she had her twin.
She could bring herself back to that very moment where dread settled in the pit of her belly upon seeing the Army officials standing tall at her parents’ front door, their heads bowed and caps respectably in their hands. She could feel the sting of the first uttered condolences, could hear the screams and cries of her mother, and the unbearable pain that tore through her chest at the casket he came back home in.
Her glassy eyes shut tightly and she fought through the grief, willing herself not to cry. She had done too much of that for ten long years. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t bring him back. God knows she had tried again and again. She had spent night after night pleading for his return, wishing he had stayed, and allowed the surviving guilt eat her insides that whole first year. What she didn’t know then–but knew now–was that second year would be so much harder.
When the song ended, Anna held down on the last note in fear of what the silence would bring. More memories. More heartache. More grief.
Harry curled his fingers around hers once he was certain she wasn’t going to continue to play, his grip tight and warm, and it was all it took to break her out of the isolated haze she found herself in.
Anna freed herself from his grasp, quickly turning around on the bench to tuck her arms around his waist and bury her face in his abdomen.
Harry held her with one hand at her back while the other stroked her hair in a loving manner, letting her have her moment. She hadn’t begun to cry like he predicted. Not a single tear slipped down from her eyes.
She sat there, his body heat slowly thawing her frozen state as she tried to grasp onto a piece of her lost twin that would strike up some kind of faith in her. She mentally spoke to him, prayed for strength to get through the days and all the days thereafter.
After a few long minutes, she lifted her pounding head and peeked up at her husband through sleepy eyes, her chin resting below his chest.
“Take me to bed?” She requested in the tiniest voice she could muster.
“Of course, love,” Harry whispered, leaning as low as he could to press a soft, tender kiss to her cold lips. “Of course.”
Once they were tucked underneath the safety of the covers, banishing the winter weather from chilling their bones, Harry held her close, not once uttering a single word. Anna was grateful for that. All she needed was his arms around her to keep her warm and the sound of his beating heart to lull her to sleep.
Her thoughts drifted off to the day of the funeral service. Her chest tightened at the memory of her father taking the church steps she sat outside on, both too grief stricken to converse. They sat there silently together, mourning a son and a brother, and when the church bells chimed to announce a new hour, they both feared reality; their precious soldier’s strong voice and sweet laughter fading as time went on.
It had begun to around the fifth year, Anna mostly having to rely on the home videos she treasured. And now, when she so desperately wanted to hear his voice today, it was unclear.
Faint.
Distant.
And that’s what cracked the stonewall she had built for this particular day over the years–her desperate cries tearing from her lips, frightening the pup and paining her husband while they both tried to console her.
Wild Winter's Day 