Change of Life

Alone

He'd never been sentimental; at least not in the way most women saw it. But, Kitty had learned years and years before, romance came with a price and sentiment took a toll. The fact he'd passed on St. Valentine's Day had somehow seemed right, for the love in his heart had never been in question.

It had been a year since his passing. For the first time since she had awakened that morning she had time to give it her full consideration. Of course it had been in the back of her thoughts, always there, like a shadow in the late afternoon, connected but distanced.

She tidied up the parlor; putting away the grandchildren's playthings in the big wooden toy box he'd crafted that last Christmas. She straightened the pillows on the settee, adjusting this nick–knack and that. She smiled as she worked. It had been intentional she was sure, that the children had picked today to leave the grandkids with her, knowing that rowdy bunch would keep her from dwelling too much on what had happened this day last year.

With the room once again in its normal tidy circumstances, she turned her attention to the kitchen. Four glasses of milk, each at different levels, were sitting on the kitchen table. The remains of heart-shaped sugar cookies were dissolving at the bottom of the glasses. She wiped the crumbs from the table and washed the dishes. She swept the floor and put the broom away in the kitchen closet. As she was shutting the door she saw his cane. She stared at it for a moment and without a conscious effort, she reached for it. Her fingers wrapped around the handle and for a moment she felt connected to him. Placing his cane back in the closet, the now familiar loneliness descended on her heart. She had learned to live with it in this past year. Ever present, it became her companion.

She turned out the lights and went to her room. The brass bed loomed large, too large to comfort a solitary heart. She ignored its presence and moved to her dressing table going through the routine of taking the pins from her hair. She studied her reflection for a moment, hardly recognizing the white-haired old woman looking back at her. He'd always told her she was beautiful, when he sensed she was sad, missing the children or old friends already gone from this world; he'd tell her she was beautiful. It wasn't the affirmation of her beauty which had touched her heart, but the affirmation of his love.

The years had been kind to the face in the mirror. Despite her seventy-two years, her skin remained unlined and her figure trim. Change was most obvious in her eyes. The spark, which set fire to her love of life, was gone. Leveling her shoulders, she sat a little straighter in the backless chair and began brushing her hair, taking time to give it the mandatory one hundred strokes.

Slipping into her nightgown, she walked to the window to look at the stars, another habit born from the early years of their marriage. His voice crept into her consciousness, "Did I ever tell you, when I'm out on the trail, camping out, miles from home, I lay awake looking up at the stars, thinking that maybe you're looking at those same stars, kinda makes me feel closer to you."

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment and then whispered, "Good night, Cowboy."

She moved back to the brass bed and turned down the covers. The children had tried to talk her into buying a smaller bed, but somehow she couldn't imagine sleeping anywhere else. She climbed in, always on the left side, leaving his side undisturbed. On the table next to her, were the photographs of her lifetime. There were pictures of Christopher, Bethy and James as children, and photos of them as adults with their own families. She and Matt had done well by them, despite their late start they were good parents and their children were proof of the fact.

She smiled into the images of Doc, Festus, and Sam, the group photo had been taken by an itinerant photographer the summer before they'd married. Now the faces looked back at her as though offering encouragement for the last days of her lonely journey. Finally, the picture she reached for, the one she held close to her heart every night for this past year was her wedding photograph. She studied it tonight looking into his dear face, letting her fingers lightly trace the outline of his features.

His death had been sudden, so quick there hadn't been time for a good-bye. People had told her it was a blessing; it was the way a man like Matt Dillon would have wanted to go. Not for the first time she wondered how it could have been his heart that failed him. He'd had the strongest, bravest heart of any man she'd ever known. "At least he didn't suffer," they told her. Words meant to comfort brought little.

Guilt worked its way into her remembrance. If only she'd known that morning when he went down to the barn that it would be the last time she saw him alive. She would have told him so many things. Meeting him had changed the course of her life, and there was not a day of their time together, save the final one, she would have altered. The whole of them had formed the rich tapestry of her life. "Oh Matt…" She whispered. "I need you." He was her life's blood, everything she was, and everything she had become was because of him and for him. His sudden death had robbed her of the chance to tell him.

She didn't allow herself the luxury of tears. Tears didn't change things and after they had been shed he would still be gone and she would still be alone.

She clutched the picture to her breast and closed her eyes – praying for sleep, praying for the gift of a dream that would bring him back to her.

GSGSGS

He stood at the foot of the bed, as he had every night for the past year, his soul aching to ease her suffering, but questioning if the time was right. His youthful features smiled as he saw sleep overtake her tired face. He moved closer and sat by her side. His hand reached out to touch her face. He wavered. Was this the time? Was it right to take her now? As he hesitated she opened her eyes. Staring into his beloved countenance, her eyes became alive once more.

"Oh Matt," she whispered. He gathered her close; their shared embrace became the union of their eternal souls.

GSGSGS

The family found her body the next morning; the wedding picture was still in her hands.

Change of Life - the end.