He was walking on the beach. He had been walking this route ever since his wife passed away two years ago. He had sunk to an all-time low when he laid her to rest. He found he had to force himself out of bed each morning.
He couldn’t think of Ellen without a pool of tears. His appetite had disappeared and he didn’t want to eat anymore. Life became a burden. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to live.
One morning when he was putting on his shoes and socks a pain so sharp ran down his arm. He grabbed his chest and knew in an instant he was having a heart attack. He managed to reach the cordless phone and push 911. He didn’t remember anything after that.
The heart doctor had saved him but insisted he get some exercise into his routine. He told him he understood about his wife and how he was feeling. He explained that Ellen would not want him to live this way.
It was the next day that he kissed his beloved’s photo on his night stand. He finished breakfast and put on his jacket and headed out the door. He decided he didn’t want Ellen to be seeing him this way, so he would start that walk.
He chose the beach because Ellen loved the water. The two had taken many walks along his path. He remember placing her hand in his, and the smile she would give him, letting him realize how much the two of them loved each other.
He didn’t take too much notice to what was going on around him during his walks. He was doing it for his wife and doctor. Today, was different though. He stopped about half-way down the beach and gazed out over the water.
Sparkles seemed to bounce off the gentle waves. The sun seemed to be reaching down through the waters and lifting diamonds from the bottom of the floor. He stood there wondering how his wife liked heaven, when he heard the voice.
He looked around him. He stared deep into the water. No one was around, but yet he heard the voice once more. It was Ellen’s voice. Shivers went down his arms as he knew in reality she was not there. This was a game of the imagination.
Soon the voice was no more and he made himself walk back to the house. He made himself a cup of coffee and then went to the wrap-a-round porch and sat in the porch swing. He took a sip and closing his eyes, he relived the times he and his wife had danced a waltz on this porch, or had sat in the swing together, talking the evening away.
A tear and then another began to fall. He missed her so much. Life would never be the same. It sometimes felt like half of his heart had been ripped out of his chest. He opened his eyes and listened to the sounds of birds. Sometimes a passing car would go by and honk. He would motion a wave. He finished his coffee and went back inside to pass the rest of the day away.
Each day, at the same time, he took his walk. Each day he heard the voice, but saw no one. Each day, he seemed to miss her more. He wondered if he would ever be able to get on with his life.
It was on a Friday. He hated Fridays because the weekend followed. He would get groceries alone, go to church alone. He was at the beach. It was a little crisp this day. An overnight rain had happened, leaving the beach with less people.
He stopped and waited to hear the voice, when the winds picked up. He looked out over the water and saw what could be thought of as a very small whirlpool. The waters stirred. The winds were picking the water up and forming it into some familiar shape.
The diamonds scattered throughout and then seemed to follow a funnel pattern. He watched with amazement as the diamond cluster came closer to where he stood. He should leave. He should go to safety; but something held him in his place.
As the cluster came closer, he raised his hands and held them out to the ocean, as if to capture the voice he was expecting to hear. The sun sparked a brightness that caused him to have to shade his eyes with one hand.
He still held the other out to the mysteries resting upon the waves. He felt a tingle in his fingers and it exploded into his palm. He drew his hand back towards him and he fell to the sand. He lowered his hand that had been shielding his eyes and he cuddled the form in his hands as if he was holding a newborn for the very first time.
The brightness left, leaving a glow of red hues in his palm. It seemed like minutes that he rocked back and forth. The glow simmered then exhausted itself; leaving a tiny note lying in his hand.
He ever so carefully unfolded the piece of paper. He stared at the writing and then his lips formed the words, I love you too darling. I can’t wait to see and be with you again.
The note said,
I watch you my darling
I see you each day in my view
I may not walk this path anymore
But know this; I still love you.
Ellen
Who I am 