By Hugh Cartwright
Though desolate at his bedside, she wore her brightest clothes.
“Be happy,” he whispered. “Take me to the places we loved. Burnish your memories. Our memories.”
So she took him to the Trevi fountain in Rome, St Mark’s Square in Venice, the Latin Quarter in Paris. She sipped wine in the Ljubljana sunshine, dug her toes into the sand at Les Sables-d’Olonne, cruised Norwegian fjords; a little less of him with her each day.
At every stop, tears flowed as old emotions surfaced, more vivid, yet more comforting as the days passed.
And then the urn was empty. Only memories remained.
Wonderful story so well written.
Thank you so much Mary.
Hello Hugh,
Poignant! Well done in 101 words.
Thank you Cathryn.
Beautiful and touching story.
Thank you; your generous comment means a lot to me.
Well done, Hugh, for a beautiful and touching story.
A lovely story that tugs at one’s heart strings.
Thank you Tom. Though not about me personally, the story is based on a real sequence of events.
A moving story, vividly portrayed in the outlines of a life. Well done!
My favorite line “a little less of him with her each day. . .”
Thank you for your kind comment. As you will have guessed the “little less..each day” is meant to be both literal (as the urn is gradually emptied) and emotional (in terms of her gradual recovery from loss).
Thanks for this lovely story. I love the last line so true.
So real and so true. Beautiful. Thank you.
Sad and lovely.