Marie

He trudged haphazardly through the slush like he did every other Saturday morning, but this particular one hit harder. Basket in one arm, soap in the other, he struggled to open the door to the laundromat, when the long-time proprietor Ms. Haley appeared and held it for him, her 89 year old amber eyes still full of life. "Got quite a handful there, son", she playfully sing-songed. He couldn't respond, even though the two of them usually partook of an adorable flirtation that always transcended into a story of her recently deceased husband of sixty years. He could see her eyes full of wonder and joy and sadness when she talked of him, and he always hoped to find love like that as well. And, he did. but...the basket, and his heart, and the day, were just too heavy.

Today would have been their one year anniversary. They met at a cantina, and as cliche as it was, he fell in love with her at first sight. She was there with a small group of friends, and he could see how her magnetic personality held the friends together. To think he was this close to NOT introducing himself, or giving her his number, or actually answering when she called the next day. What an idiot move that would have been. They were inseparable from that point on, and he couldn't even recall what life was like before that.

Her zest for life never faltered, be it planning an epic trip or deciding which leftovers to reheat or whispering her bizarre dreams to him at four in the morning. She grabbed every opportunity by the horns and never let go. He was sucked into her amazing energy from the word go, and knew he would love her until his lights faded from this realm.

While true that every relationship has it's stumbling blocks, she wouldn't let, no, she refused, to let that get in the way. "We've got this, just don't let go of my hand, okay?" is how she handled things, big or small, whether they seemed impossible or not. He knew she meant it. He knew she would be there no matter how big the obstacles were.

He still couldn't fathom she was gone, so sudden, so cruel. As he slowly loaded the washer with his soiled clothes from this week's ordeal, he realized several of her haggard tee shirts were amongst his, and he pulled out the aubergine one that was her favourite. He held it close to his face, and could still smell her skin, see her beautiful eyes, hear her broken laugh.

Marie. I'll miss you so. What do I do now without you?

(Just keep holding my hand, okay?)