Eavesdropping

While getting totally emerged in my Harry Potter book, I heard a singsong query coming from my kitchen.
“Ho-ney? Will you open the bottle of wine?”

DD returned from the garage with the bocce ball set. Readied for an exciting game with his little brothers, he stopped in the kitchen to tend to his lovely gal’s request. At the same time, I stopped my reading just to listen to their sweet conversation and remember the early days of Tom and I…

Those were the days. Tom and I spent so much time together. We hung out in coffee shops, and in parks, and slowly peeled away the layers of camouflage hiding our true selves to each other. Even after exposing my weaknesses, Tom accepted me.

We seemed to compliment each other. While I was naively positive (unseeing of the tragedies happening all around us), Tom was dismally negative (unable to see the rainbow on a rainy day). I felt whole when I was with him, which was new for me. I loved it; I loved him.

DD was only 6 years old back then. I loved to spend time with the two of them. Tom would read him Winnie the Pooh stories with a different voice for each character. It was his way of saying “I love you” without actually saying the words. I eavesdropped then, just as I am doing now.

A tear gently rolls down my cheek, hearing the “Tom” in DD’s voice and knowing that, for me, Tom’s subtle way of saying “I love you” is only a memory now.

I returned from my thoughts, and looked down at my book, as footsteps approached. In came DD with a glass of wine – unaware that my tear was any more than a result of a well written ending to a great series of books.