Mrs. Gracia was a gentle, gentle, caring soul who lived in the countryside for many years. She had 10 acres of land that had been passed down for generations. Every year, for the past three years, she would sit and gaze for hours at photographs of her husband as the sunset. She let all memories flow like water entering an empty glass. He passed away from natural causes three years ago. For her, it felt like yesterday. They had been together for 55 years. They never parted ways. She would reminisce about the day they met, how bright his spirit was, and how kind his smile rested upon his face. She will never forget the scent of cologne he wore when he picked her up for their first date. She brought the photo closer to her lips, closed her eyes, and remembered the day he surprised her with a puppy. The same overflow of happiness and emotions surged through her body the same as it did that day. She could still feel the softness of the dog’s fur, and she named him Fluffs. She will never forget the day he returned home from the war and her anticipation and nervousness. She was anxious as she waited for the train to enter the station. Every moment that led closer to her jumping back into his arms, she smiled. She held the photograph to her heart. She closed her eyes and thought about the day he proposed to her. He took her on a private yacht, causing her to believe they were going on some sudden vacation. She never forgot the look in his eyes when he expressed how much he loved her and how he wanted to spend the rest of their days together until death separated them. When he asked her,
“Will You marry Vinita Garcia and do me the honor of becoming my wife?” She will never forget that embrace when she said yes and his tender kiss that sealed their love. Her husband, Pablo Garcia. An honorable man and husband. She looked at his photograph and remembered the day she announced they were having a baby. The tears of joy fell from his eyes when he heard the news. Her heart raced at the pleasure they shared that day. A gust of wind blew the piece of curly hair that fell by her eye. She let out a sigh and leaned back in the chair. She was rocking it back and forth as the photograph rested on her thigh. She’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he saw his daughter being born, how he looked when he held her, and how he was as they raised her. Every moment he shared with her, their little Isabella. She rocked and thought about it all. All the years they spent raising their child, hosting parties, the holidays, the birthdays, the funerals. The hard times and the even more challenging times. The great times and all the vacations. She remembered all his expressions and smiled at the memory of each one. Saddest of all, she never forgot how he looked before he took his last breaths. So peaceful, almost asleep. Not even death would part them, for his soul would wait for her. A tear ran down her cheek.
She picked up the photo again and spoke aloud,
“This photograph here is my favorite of them all.” She loved his smile in that one. It was precisely how he smiled at her the first time their eyes met. She says as she begins to rock back and forth in the chair,
“I will never forget our life together, our memories I hold on to in my heart and soul every day.” She begins to look off into the distance as the sun slowly sets to dusk, leaving her sitting on the porch in her thoughts, her love for him shining through the years.
