A New Sunday Tradition
Jean was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling a little lost. Happy. Fulfilled. Certain. Excited. In love. But a little lost, if she were being honest with herself. Then closing her eyes, she willed sleep to take her once again. But she was wide awake, going through the motions in her head.
To distract herself, she started humming a familiar hymn. Then, pulling the blankets over her head, singing in a soft voice. Self-soothing. Images ran through her mind… The boys running wild after service. Christopher talking to friends outside, waiting impatiently for her to make the rounds. Faces of friends she'd known her whole life were singing along with her in this daydream.
Tears were falling from her eyes as she continued to lightly sing to herself in her covered world. It was a kind of sadness that sat in her chest when she began, but the longer she sang the more she saw his face. Their memories flashing into her mind's eye… His smiling blue eyes in her garden. His scent filling the study. The gait of his walk down the hall. The excitement of sharing their days. The feel of his hands on her, he was such an affectionate man.
Her tune changed, it was brighter now. The sadness leaving her chest, as love filled her heart leaving no room for it. She could hear the change in her voice. The sweet, happy whisper of a chorus of one, under cover of darkness.
And then… she was a duet. Coming out from under the blanket, she continued her song, staring at the door, smiling. Their voices were a beautiful harmony of soft bass and soprano. When it ended, there was a light knock.
"Come in." She said in a shy voice.
She was sitting up in her pajamas, blankets pulled up over her lap. The door opened and there stood her future, with a tray of tea and toast. And a smile that lit up the whole room with the most comforting eyes she had ever known. Pools of empathy and understanding that he brought to everyone he met, but with a special love reserved just for her.
"I knew this morning might be… though. I can't do much, but I don't think even I could mess up tea and toast." And his boyish winking smile smoothed away any remaining sadness.
He set the tray down on the side table and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. She took his face in both her hands... "I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above." She continued singing one of his favorite songs lightly to him.
"It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love." He sang along as they finished it together. Eyes locked in love and understanding.
"A new Sunday tradition."