I went shopping just the other day. I really didn't need much, if anything at all, but more than store items I needed a change of scenery; you know something other than a view of the walls, and floors and windows of my house.
As I walked the aisles looking for nothing in particular, just something that captured my taste and my fancy, I saw a woman. I can't explain why I gave her a second look but there was something about her -- maybe something about the look of her, possibly something about the way she walked. Who could tell? One might say she was most ordinary in appearance but she somehow and for some unknown reason reminded me of someone I once knew.
I left the store with a few unnecessary and utterly superfluous items, only enough to fill up two of those thin plastic bags, and walked to my truck. As I pushed the button on the remote which unlocked the doors, the thought of that woman, and the feeling I had just wouldn't leave me. Trying to put the thoughts of her aside, I thought of the uncommonly cold and damp weather.
It's a cold and wet morning but, in spite of the many excuses I gave myself to avoid my daily walk, I bundled up as best I could and walked the path my friend and I had walked so very many times. I guess I walk that path because it reminds me of my old friend.
As I tried to step over the puddles of cold rainwater, I told myself that the exercise would do me good and a little rain never hurt anyone. After all, almost anything was better than spending a day cooped up in the house. I don't exactly know when it happened but I have become someone who loves the outdoors, the feeling of fresh air on my face and a view of the sky above me.
This walk was different than the ones before it though. I usually spend time looking at the hills and the cows in the nearby field but there was something that kept pulling my thoughts away from those scenes. It was the image of that woman at the store and the feeling I had as I watched her.
Then it came to me. There was something about her that reminded me of my wife, Robin. I can't explain exactly why this stranger caused me to see a resemblance but there was just something about her. As the thoughts of her, that woman in the store, became stronger I knew I needed to find the reason she was reminiscent of my friend.
She didn't look like Robin and, although I never heard her utter a single word, I had no reason to believe her voice was like Robin's, so what was it? I couldn't get the image of that puzzle out of my head and I found myself stepping in those rain-filled puddles rather than missing them, but it didn't matter.
The rain that was not much more than a cold mist when I started my walk became a little stronger but that too didn't matter. Was she wearing clothes similar to those worn by Robin? I searched my mind for recollections of clothing worn by her but, although I knew full well that I couldn't recall every shirt or pair of pants ever worn, still nothing came to mind.
Robin, I remember how much you loved long walks as the early morning sun washed your face with the first warmth of a new day. I watched out of the corner of my eye as you sat on the porch while the cool evening breeze moved through your hair. What was it about that woman in the store that brought you to mind?
Then the simplest of answers came to me. It wasn't her hair, her stature or even her face but, when everything was compiled as one might do with the pieces of a puzzle, the finished product reminded me so very much of that person I knew very long ago, my wife of 46 years, Robin.
Over the past seven years, I've had several experiences such as this one. As it has been with the one I described, there never seems to be just one thing, one look or one movement that brings back the memory of my wife. So, I have come to accept these occurrences for what they are, puzzles to be assembled.
I do know one thing for sure. For hours and sometimes even days following these encounters, I feel better. I seem to get a feeling of calm and maybe even the feeling that everything in my life will somehow work out and be okay. I feel as though, wherever Robin is, she too is okay.
In many ways, Robin is still here with me. She is on my mind when I first open my eyes each morning. I remember her zest for life as she readied herself for each new day. Without knowing what that day might bring, she was ready and eager to meet the unknown without hesitation and without fear.
You brought the sunlight into my life as you swept the clouds from the sky. It was you who chased away the bitter chill of those cold winter nights. You calmed the winds that preceded the storms and turned them into soft summer breezes. We shared a love that seemed so ordinary yet, after the passage of these many years without you, I have come to understand that it was not ordinary, not ordinary at all.
I feared that, over time, I would get over Robin, her time of dying and her death, but I haven't. I guess I needed to find a way to make tomorrow worth waiting for and, when I'm feeling low, I remember the gift she gave to me.
It isn't a gift that I keep in a closet. It doesn't rest folded in a drawer or displayed on a shelf. The gift has no expiration date so it will never perish. Robin gave to me a part of herself and that most treasured gift will remain with me always. I know that I can't continue to live in a world of "what ifs" but there is one thing I know for sure. You'll be forever in my heart.
Stan Fine is a retired police officer and Verizon Security Department investigator who, after retiring in 2006, moved from Tampa, Fla., to Noel. Stan's connection to Noel can be traced back to his grandparents who lived most of their lives there. Stan began writing after the passing of his wife Robin in 2013. Opinions expressed are those of the author.