A/N: Hi guys :) I've had this idea in my head for a while, and now I finally got it down on paper (well, not paper - the screen). Please tell me what you think! A promise on the deathbed: She died at the age of 71, February 17. They had discovered the cancer in her blood, when she was 67. At that time the doctors had given her maximum a year, so I guess it was a miracle that she lived for four years. She said she did it for me, survived. She had always been the toughest of us, the survivor. Lying in the hospital bed with tubes attached to her, after emergency hospitalization, she was still as beautiful as ever. Her now silver hair, loosely lying on the pillow framing her face, that even though it had a few wrinkles, still looked like it did in high school. Her smile, one of my favorite things about her (but then again, everything really is my favorite thing about her), which now desperately tried to reach her eyes, but not quite did. I guess she saw the sadness in my eyes, and the years running down me chins. "Promise me," she said with closed eyes, you could tell she was fighting the pain. It killed me to see her like this. "Promise me to keep living. To keep experience things. To live." And I promised her, even though I knew I couldn't, 'cause if that was her last wish, then of cause. I would do anything for her. Her last words were "I love you." Followed by my name, barely a whisper. I cried for months. I missed her. I missed seeing her as the first thing in the morning, missed chatting with her over our morning coffee. I missed seeing her cheeks all red when she'd walked the dog, even though I had insisted she shouldn't be the one to go - it had been to cold, she shouldn't go out when she was so sick. But she always got me convinced. And I missed her eyes. Seeing them light up, when our grand-kids visited. Seeing them full of love looking at me. Just feeling her eyes on me - I missed it. Everything. But I guessed I kept the promise. After a year or so, our oldest son Matt got me convinced to go with them to Italy. And of cause I couldn't say no to him, just like I couldn't to his mother - He had her eyes. I guess* our children realized that I wouldn't go out the door, if it wasn't for them. They knew I wasn't interest in participating in some club for old people. Actually, I think it was her who made them promise to take me out - A dinner, a weekend with the family, sometimes even a vacation. Everything really to make me come outside. Of cause it was her. So, I kept on living. Well, I wouldn't actually call it living. I couldn't live without her. More like I kept on surviving. For her. And I did. I survived for six years before the lung cancer sat in. Six years, where spent with most of the time missing her, but there were times where the sun showed again. Like when our grand-kids came over and we played Ludo. Or when the kids invited me over for dinner, and I could see how happy they were. Now here I am. In a hospital bed, waiting to die. Waiting to see her again. Even though I actually don't believe that I'll see her again - I mean, I've already been blessed with having her in my life once, could I really be so lucky that I'd see her again? But then again, I couldn't stop hoping. With us, it felt like the universe wanted us together. The last thing I saw was her face. A picture of the two of us taken by the beach a couple of years after our wedding, stood on the table to my left. I missed her so. I had survived long enough now. It was time. Time to see her again, one way or another. I died the week before our 50 years wedding anniversary.
A/N: Hiii again, thanks for reading! :D I'd really like to her, who you thought was who? (If that makes sense?)