Lunch was especially bad, when I took his roast dinner to the bedroom he rejected it.
"Harry! Please, you need to eat." I begged him.
"I can't." He sobbed at me.
"Please, just a bit. For me?" I continued.
I gave in, and placed the plate on the bedside cabinet and sat on the bed next to Harry in his curled up ball position. At first I rested my hand on his shoulder. After a while Harry placed his hand on mine, clutching is tightly, and I knew he needed me. I laid next to him, wrapping my arms around him tightly. He let out a sigh and started sobbing again.
"Thanks" he mumbled under his sobs. With that I placed a soft, delicate kiss upon the back of his head.
We stayed like that for an hour or so. Harry fell asleep and I went to make a cup of tea. I spent the remainder of my evening downstairs, thinking about him. The pain he must be feeling. Hoping tomorrow would be a better day.
The Funeral
July 26, 2076.
Dear Diary,
Today I married the only man who had ever made me happy. It was such a beautiful service. Everybody we had met over the years from the Royson's couple we met on Honeymoon, to the waitress when I had my heart attack. Of course our family was there, our brothers, sisters, nephew and nieces. The room was large and mostly stone, except the ceiling which had been painted beautifully, it consisted of a man laying on a rock reaching out for help, and there before him was an angel. The front of the room was wooden panelled but in my middle stood a wide, tall singular window forming an arch. The view of a forest outside, and before the window, my husband in his new home of stained oakwood and soft, cream stitched padding inside. I decided a closed casket would be better, I don't think I myself could deal with seeing the cold lifeless husk that once bore my husbands life and soul. The priest at the front had called me to the lectern to deliver a speech about my late husband. And as I look out over the faces of people we had met over the years a smile came to my face. My eyes full of tears.
"I did have a speech prepared but it was a pile of shit. And Harry would have wanted something from the heart." I said. The crowd did nothing. Nobody was shocked at the language, nobody laughed at the memory of Harry doing something heartfelt or silly.
"Every person here meant something to him. I know that perhaps sometimes he was a difficult person to get along with, and I know that you, James, you didn't always get along with your brother, but he loved you with all his heart. My daughter, Becky, your Daddy loved you so much, he always spoke when you were young of how much he couldn't wait for you to marry, and have children, and even when you shouted 'I hate you guys' it bought a smile to his face because he knew you didn't. You made him a proud Dad. This man. Was one of the greatest human beings I'll have ever known. He was kind, caring, loving, funny, smart. He may not have cured cancer or solved world hunger. But his legacy of kindness lives on, within all of us. There will never be another man like my Harry. Gay/straight/transgendered we are all people and we all deserve chances. He is the only reason I am still here today. Once we met, I could never picture my life without him, I still can't. I don't know what tomorrow will be like, I don't know what it will be like in a month or a year. I had always hoped I would die first, no matter how selfish it was, but he'd have known what to do, he could have carried on. I don't know how." And as I fell to my knees at the bottom of the casket, in front of everyone, Becky ran to help me up.
"I can't. I can't do it. I just can't." I cried out at her. And she knelt down and hugged me, the tightest I can ever remember. And she joined me crying. Just me and her in front of the room rocking back and forth in her arms. Without hesitation a room full of mourning people let out a cry with me. Then the youngest Granddaughter Chelsea came up to me.
"Grandaddy, it's okay. He's in a better place where the angels will keep him safe." And she rubbed my back as she leant her head on it. She then offered me her rabbit toy to hug. And I let out a laugh. The very toy Harry and I had argued over in the store. Whether we buy her the rabbit or the dog. I picked her up and walked back to my seat alongside my daughter.
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After the funeral we went back to the house for the Wake. It was quite small. And it was a warm sunny day. A lot more people than were at the funeral. This was much more a public affair. It was a nice chance to catch up with people we hadn't spoken to in a while. I mean I. I'm still saying we.
The Forgotten Love Page 4