"Let Go,My Love. Let Go."

Dave built the potting shed out back the summer they moved into their new home. He shingled the roof to match the house and built flower boxes for the windows. He planted a Rose of Sharon bush nearby and put in a winding brick path. Dave wanted to make a special place for the love of his life.

He was on his way home from work the night the tractor trailer ran a red light and hit his car broadside sending it across the intersection onto the front lawn and into the living room of the owner’s home.

Luckily, they weren’t home so there were no other fatalities. The paramedics pronounced Dave dead at the scene.

At first, Jen couldn’t understand what the police were talking about. “There’s been a mistake. That’s not my husband you’re talking about. I just got off the phone with him an hour ago. He should be here any minute, you’ll see, there’s been a mistake. Did you get some identification, registration? Something? Please, tell them to look again, there’s been a mix up of some sort. Please, please, oh my God no! No! No!

Coming to on a stretcher heading for the ambulance, she screamed for Dave. Dave! David! Help me, please! David! Where are you taking me? Wait for my husband! Wait, he’ll tell you this is a mistake, you have the wrong house. David! Please, wait!

The hospital staff kept her sedated until her parents arrived, and when she woke, she cried and wailed until they had no option but to sedate her again. This went on for days, until Jen came to the reality that her sweet David was gone.

Jen joined a bereavement group, attended grief therapy and battled depression and anxiety for years. She spoke with her minister, friends, family, but it seemed nothing helped. She had been robbed of her love, her life. The couple wanted children but that dream was crushed, all gone now. Only 32, she vowed a life alone, never to re-marry. She couldn’t do that to him. No, she would stay faithful, alone with her memories.

Jen’s sister Pat encouraged her to pack up Dave’s belongings. Three years later Jen moved all of what was left of Dave into the shed, including his woodworking equipment from the basement, sports paraphernalia, his books and art supplies. She closed and locked the door, sat by the window box of flowers cascading down by the rain gutter, and sobbed.

Six years later Dave’s best friend paid Jen a visit.

“Jen, do you think you still have Dave’s picture of the softball team back in the day. I’m putting together a sort of memory book for everybody, and I remembered Dave had a lot of the old pictures.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Even if I did, I wouldn’t know where to look. I put a lot of his stuff in the shed outback, but I haven’t been out there for years. I doubt it would be there, but I guess I could look.”

“I’d really appreciate it Jen, and I wouldn’t ask but I really want to do a book for the team. You’ll get a copy too. You know, good times back then. Sad what happened. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s okay Bud, I’ve gotten a lot better. At least I can talk about it without crying. Most of the time. That’s progress.”

It was awkward talking with Bud, she didn’t see him anymore since Dave died and she lost the ability to “chit chat” like friends do.

Jen didn’t want to go anywhere near the shed. She didn’t want to look at it let alone go inside. She waited a few days, then called her sister.

“Janice, Bud came over a few days ago and asked me to look through Dave’s things for old softball pictures, you know back when we were all young.”

“Speak for yourself lady, I’m still young.”

“Yeah, right. Anyway, he wants to put together a memory book, so he wants me to look for pictures and I just can’t bring myself to look through what’s out there.

“You still have all that stuff? I thought you would have sorted it out by now. Why are you holding on to everything? You have a beautiful shed, built with love by Dave and he would want you to be enjoying it, not treating it like a shrine, and letting it rot in the backyard.”

“I know, I know, I just can’t, okay? I can’t let go of him. If I throw all his things away, I’m throwing pieces of him away and I just can’t do that. I still love him, Janice.”

“Well, you must. This isn’t healthy. He wouldn’t want you to hold onto him this way. You know you must move on with your life. Do you want me to come over and help you, or just offer moral support”?

“No, just give me a couple of days. I’ll do it.”

About a week later Jen walked out the back door, passed the Rose of Sharon, now in full lavender bloom, and stood on the first step to the shed. She paused for a moment to take in the air and listen to the songbirds. Why had she waited so long to enjoy this lovely place Dave made for her? 

She could feel his presence and it made her happy. Jen smiled  remembering his touch, his quirky wrinkled nose when he laughed, how happy they were when he planted the bush.

The key turned in the lock and Jen pushed the creaking shed door open. Boxes and cartons and cobwebs beckoned her. She breathed in, consumed by his memory, and imagined his arms around her. She could feel Dave come flooding back and surrounding her with his love.

Jen poked around, moving boxes, and shifting bags, and there over in the corner she spied what she thought was the box of his few baseball cards, sports trinkets, and pictures of the softball gang. She opened it and laughed at how young everybody was. They looked like kids. Youth frozen in time, ageless. 

And there was Dave, captain of the team with that big silly grin, his cap on backwards, holding a Bud Light beside his best friend. Before she would cry, Jen grabbed the box and made her way to the door, when something caught her eye. Peeking out from between two wood panels was some sort of paper, oddly now so visible.

Her first thought was to leave before the tears came, but something told her to see what that paper was wedged in between two boards, covered in cobwebs.  Finding a crate to sit on, slowly she unfolded the piece of paper that turned out to be a letter from David.

My darling Jen:

I’ve just finished the shed and planted the Rose of Sharon, and I want us to always remember today, so I’m hiding this letter out here to give you on our tenth wedding anniversary when I will let you know I love you more and more each day we are together. 

You and I will make such happy memories here in our new home and hopefully along the way we’ll make some babies.

I don’t have words to say how much I love you, but I swear every day I’ll find a way to show you.

I open my eyes in the morning and there you are, my beautiful Jen. I close my eyes at night, and there you are in my arms, my beautiful Jen.

We will be together until death claims one of us, and if it claims me first, never forget I will always be with you.

Now smile because I love you.

David

Jen held the tear-stained letter against her heart and wept softly. She could hear his voice - 

“Let go my love, let go.”