All the Time in the World

“We have all the time in the world.”

“Yes, but is this how you want to spend it?” she asked, lifting her head from his chest to look up at him. She had always loved those green eyes.

He kissed the top of her head, “I couldn’t think of a better way.”

She dropped her head back onto his chest, not entirely satisfied with his answer.

They lay in the grass of their backyard beneath the starry night sky. Snuggled between them, was their one-year-old son, fast asleep and none the wiser.

“Should we wake him?” she asked, stroking the boy’s pale blond hair.

Her husband’s frown was illuminated in the moonlight, “No. He wouldn’t understand. Best to just let him sleep.”

“I don’t think I understand it,” she whispered.

He squeezed her to him, “I know. Neither do I, not really.”

“Is there more you wish you could have done? With your life, I mean?”

Once more he frowned, “More? Maybe. But not differently.” He peered down at his family, “I never thought I’d have a family of my own, never thought I’d deserved it. Sure, there are things I always meant to do but never got the chance, but I wouldn’t trade this for anything,” he squeezed her shoulder and again kissed the top of her head, “What about you, my love?”

She didn’t answer right away, frowning into his chest, “The same, I guess. I don’t regret us or our little family.”

“But?”

“But…but I wished I accomplished more with my time.”

“Would it have mattered?” He whispered into the top of her head. He had always loved the small of her soft hair.

“No…. No, I guess not.”

They lay in silence, sprawled out beneath the night sky. The stars shone with a new intensity, illuminating the heavens. Their backs slowly dampened from the dewy grass. She couldn’t help but think of things left undone. The graduate degree she would never finish. Languages left unlearned. Even that stupid craft project still sitting in the closet. But those didn’t bother her, not really. She stroked her son’s hair. What really bothered her was the graduation that would never be walked. The prom that would never be danced. The ‘I do’ that would never be said at the wedding that would never be celebrated.

Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, she turned her face into her husband’s chest, “What if…what if they’re wrong?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “if they are wrong then tomorrow is just another normal day.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. Normal. “Would you go to work? If it’s a normal day.”

“No. I’d stay home to be with you two. We could go for a walk, play with Little Man,” he too stroked their son’s hair.

“We could make pancakes.”

“You don’t like pancakes.”

“But you do.”

He squeezed her against him. Their son stirred between them but did not wake. He would miss the smell of pancakes and coffee in the mornings. He would miss the way his wife always had a cup ready for him. He would miss the raucous babbling of his baby boy as he played with his food in his highchair. They would miss their son’s first steps, and he was so close. He too began to cry, burying his face in his wife’s hair.

The infant lay curled between his parents, oblivious to any talk and desire for more. No concept of more time or ambitions unfulfilled. To be snuggled between his mother and father, that was life fulfilled. For they had all the time in the world.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” he breathed into his wife’s hair.

“We will…”

“What do you mean?”

“Our…our bodies may be gone, but we’ll always be together. Right?”

“Of course we will.”

They lay there in silence, watching the stars grow brighter, stroking their son’s hair, each lost in their own thoughts. She wondered how many families were lying as they were. Perhaps not outside but cozied up in their beds together. She also considered how many people had ended it on their own terms. How many couldn’t face what they were saying on the TV and radio? The faint sound of music wafted through the still air. She looked across the street to their neighbor’s house, an elderly couple who had been there since they bought the house after their wedding. Through an illuminated window she saw their frail figures revolving in a small circle. From what she could see, they appeared to be in their wedding clothes. Was this the song they first danced to as a couple?

           As she reflected on their own wedding, her husband thought on his wife’s words. Would they always be together? He was not a religious man and wasn’t sure he believed in a heaven or hell. Or an afterlife. Or anything. But with all the sincerity in his heart, he hoped that wherever they did end up, they were together. The stars erupted with a new intensity; the night shone as bright as midday. Their son rubbed his eyes and nestled his face into his parents in an attempt to block out the light. He pulled them closer to him, squeezing them. Their son moaned but did not wake.

“It was all worth it.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, “This life with you. I wish we had met each other sooner,” he knew she already knew these things, but he had to tell her. Had to, before there was no time left to tell her anything. “These have been the best years of my life. I love you,” tears streamed down his cheeks into his wife’s hair, “And I love our little family.”

“I know,” tears were streaming down her face too, she tilted her head up, passionately kissing her husband.

The stars flared in a final flash of light. A blinding white consumed their vision. And then all was black. It was over as soon as it began. It was like falling asleep. No pain. They were together. And then it was over.