Heaven Can Wait, I’ve Got You, Baby

Freewriting Friday — My heart’s in two places

I found him there on the park bench, looking spent and dejected. Perhaps he had slept little, or was it too much? Besides the bags under his eyes, I couldn’t tell. I sat beside him in silence, the only sign to show him I cared. I didn’t know him well. On that fateful day, I made an impact. It was the day he decided he wanted to live.

A year before, he got the call his daughter had passed away. It was sudden. Despite the devastating news, he forged on — throwing himself deeper into his work — until anguish overcame and paralyzed him. He saw her in every cloud and heard her voice in the loneliness of his grief-stricken evenings.

She used to call him every night. Now she was gone.

He had one foot in this life and the other out the door. He hadn’t planned how he’d leave this earth to find her. All he knew was if he didn’t put the bottle down, his liver would do the dirty work for him.

His heart was in two places. The life he knew now and the one that was yet to come. His only decision was to leave it to fate or force death’s hand.

I wasn’t skilled in grief counselling, nor did I know what to say to get through to him, but I knew I needed to try. We had a solid working relationship; now, it was time to build our friendship. He seemed agreeable to the idea, or perhaps he was too weak to refuse me. So, I coaxed him to talk about Carrie with a gentle nudge and a loving hand. I encouraged him to share all the beauty that was his daughter. I believed the more he told me, the less inward and discouraged he’d feel.

And I was right.

He shared and cried and discovered that life was possible without her. But he just wasn’t sure he wanted to live it.

The days turned into weeks and his mood lifted ever so slightly as we began hanging out more often. We rolled in the leaves, walked along the shoreline at the beach, and sampled cuisine at our favourite restaurants. With each passing day, the closer we became.

Then, one day, it hit me. I hadn’t looked for it — I hadn’t asked for it. But I noticed when I thought about Ed, I was brimming with love.

My first marriage ended in 1996. After that, my relationships were little more than sporadic dates and bumpy emotional rides. I said I was looking for a life partner, but everything about me told others I wasn’t. I gave off that standoffish vibe. Men’s radar could tell I preferred a life lived on my own. That was until I grew closer to Ed. Once I met him, it didn’t take me long to discover this man was one of a kind.

He didn’t feel it as quickly as I did. Or perhaps he did, but he was less in touch with his romantic feelings. His heart had little room for growth because of his grief. But this didn’t deter me. It’s not as if I planned to force anything.

Instead, I was happily experiencing the feelings that had awakened inside me. If nothing else, Ed had opened me up to a world of possibilities. Whether he was the man for the job of life partner remained to be seen.

Ed says the day he realized he loved me was meaningful. A weight lifted and love replaced it with hope. It came about with three simple words I mouthed to him behind the local coffee shop.

When I told him, “I adore you,” it melted his heart.

Our story became one of love and emotional expansion from that point on. We grew closer in friendship, and as lovers, our union was off the charts. Finally, after one year of figuring out where our relationship lay, Ed had come out of himself during the process, and we pledged allegiance to our special bond.

We moved in together, grew inseparable, and continue to embrace the loving relationship we share today.

Throughout our relationship, Carrie’s played an important part. In the beginning, she consumed his waking thoughts and stole his peaceful nights. Then, I came along, and we celebrated her memory together. Finally, Ed asked for her approval and he got it in spades.

If you asked Ed about me, he’d tell you I saved his life. I think he gives me far too much credit. Carrie’s death had closed a door and kept him scrambling in the dark. I helped him find the light, but it took his strength to reach the threshold.

Ed’s heart will always be in two places. First, he looks to heaven to sense Carrie’s presence; then, he comes back down to earth to share our lives.

He thinks I saved him, but what he can’t accept is the fact that he saved me.

I was the lonely bachelorette yearning for love with the man of my dreams — the kind you read about in fairy tales. Ed may not be everybody’s Prince Charming, but for me, he comes pretty damn close.

**I changed Carrie’s name to protect her privacy.

I wrote this story in response to Freewriting Friday: How Will You Leave Your Mark — Prompt one — my heart’s in two places.