I married a beautiful woman; tall, slim and oh so pretty, she was possessed of a delightful nature. That is the basis of the love we shared for 35 years. But it is really an extension of that about which I now write: It relates to the little things that are a comfort now that I no longer have her physically in my life.
The photo attached is one I took of her just four days before her death. We went to a dolls and miniatures fair. Although a knitter of some ability, someone who knitted doll's clothes for prem babies, Betty wanted something special for one of the RNs at her nursing home. The RN was about to have a new, prem, grandson brought into the world, the first male born into her family in three generations. We had to find something special for the new grandson and heir. A carefully made blue jump suit presented itself and we bought it.
That was a Saturday, 4th August. The baby was born on the Monday, Betty made the presentation on the Tuesday and died on the Wednesday. It is memories such as this that I will hold dear to my heart for all my remaining days.
But there was another little matter on that same Saturday. We left the doll show and, as we drove off, I asked Betty if she would like a counter meal at a nice local hotel. Over the years we'd been together, she had enjoyed a particular variety of fast food. I didn't care for it much but, on that particular day, when my Betty said that's what she would like for lunch, how could I refuse?
The last time I took her out for a meal was to her favourite fast food 'restaurant'. That, too, will be one of my cherished memories.
I hope you enjoy my little tale.