By the window
she sat every day, waiting for her beloved to return home. Always a
dutiful wife, Anna tended to the house, the garden, the needs of her family and
the myriad of volunteer activities that struck her sense of social
responsibility. But she would always be home at precisely the right time to put
on a pot of coffee, readying the newspaper to be read, and waiting by the
window.
She was an
intelligent woman, quick with wit and grasping concepts and ideas. She
took great delight to turn ideas into actualities; meaningful and workable
projects and compilations. But in the home, working within it and out of it,
was her forte. While she could match wits and such with the most presumably
astute business person as she not only embraced mentally, their means and
methods in doing things but she could turn the reality of what worked best and
blend it with the bottom line approach that she frequently came across.
Though she preferred the domain of her home environments, she was not limited
by her delight in domesticity; rather, she was empowered by it. Anna was
unencumbered by the keep up with the joneses ideology of the business culture.
Every day she
waited by the window, accomplishing both big and small goals of the day, until
the time grew near for her beloved George’s return from his time in the employ
of commerce, when she would put away anything that would serve to be a
distraction from spending time with him. She would lay aside those things
with which she tarried during the day and would make a pot of coffee.
Opening the newspaper and laying it out on the table, she poured the hot coffee
into a glass carafe, lit the diffuser candle, and sat down by the window to
wait.
George on the
other hand, and by the same hand of being raised to shower and give loved ones
great devotion, was happy to be out in the workforce amongst the day to day
grind of making deals, seeing through projects to completion, and being an
example in the business world that many would do well to follow. A
business financier by trade and training, George brought to the world of
industry a sense of trusting one’s fellow man and working to help make him a
success even if at times it necessitated George to not be the bottom line
business men who are generally greatly successful. He did not want to
bother counting nickels and dimes, while losing people and dashing their dreams
and hopes. His model, proved him to be a great success, if not always
financially then at least among members of the community.
His devotion to
his clients at work only mirrored his devotion at home. Meeting
continually with a variety of businessmen often afforded him opportunities for
enjoying limelight, glamour, and pretty women. But George could never be
swayed from the love of his heart, Anna. They had known each other
through George’s older sister, Colette and had become fast friends in their
teen years. Not one to simply flirt with any girl, as he’d been taught
that flirting is reserved for the one who has your heart; he couldn’t help
himself with Anna. He wanted to show her everything special to him.
She took this as a great trust and inclusion that she had always hoped would be
hers; much like great loves that one only reads about in books of romance or
watches on the silver screen with actors playing a part. This wasn’t play
for either George or Anna; the realness of their devotion continued and grew
well beyond what either had ever dreamed.
Sitting by the
window, in wait, was Anna’s routine for fifty-two years, from when she and
George first married, through the raising of their children, and on into
George’s retirement, as even in that, George would find daily errands of which
to partake or old pals with which to meet up with and shoot the breeze.
Anna’s routine always adapted and adjusted as necessary, but it really didn’t
change and each time she’d make the coffee and ready the newspaper, she’d be
right. Within minutes, George would return, walk in the house, pick up a
mug getting her one too, take off his bow tie and sit with her at the
table. The simplicity may have been lost on many, but to Anna and George,
this was the highlight of their romance, the constancy of their love
exemplified at the kitchen table.
Well into their
fifty-third year together there came to be an abrupt change. George had
stopped going out, for he was confined to bed and home because of a seriously
debilitating stroke, which took many of his abilities away, removing from him
joy for most things, unless they were simple and uncomplicated. Anna, as
always, adjusted accordingly, never failing to care for her beloved George as
this was her choice of vocation. Each and every day, she bathe George and
dress him according to plan for the day. Some days Anna would dress him
in a freshly pressed white shirt, affixed with a bow tie and sit him up with
the television set to channels featuring business and stock reports.
Other days, Anna would dress him in a brightly colored polo shirt and khaki
trousers, as if he was going to the nineteenth hole with golf buddies. With
this, she’d put on a golf channel or some other type of sports program. Working
with her grandson, Buddy, a video game enthusiast, they rigged up George’s
recliner with a fishing pole holder and set up a game system to give George the
feeling of going fishing; every time the chair rocked it would make George feel
like he was fighting with a big fish, trying to reel it in before it got
away. After she’d get him set up in the events of the day, she’d go about
her regular daily routine and when time grew near she’d make the pot of coffee
and sit patiently by the window. Always she was spot on with her timing, for
within minutes of her sitting down and opening the newspaper, she’d hear a
murmuring or subtle skirmish coming from the bedroom and she’d light up with a
smile; it was his time to come home.
Languishing
after a severe stroke can be as hard on the caretakers and loved ones as it is
on the victim. George and Anna’s children, Richard and Elizabeth begged
their mother to take it easy; she wasn’t a young woman anymore. They
wanted her to let others come in to care for their daddy but Anna wouldn’t have
any of it. Strangers didn’t know George and he wouldn’t know them.
She however, did and told her children that this is part of the vows they made
to each other in great and devoted love on the day they were married.
But Anna knew she was tired and slowing down herself. Somehow George
sensed it too. What used to take her a relatively short time, now took
her much longer, sometimes lasting well into the day.
On a crisp fall
morning after an autumnal rain graced the night’s darkness, Anna awoke to find
George gone. Gone, not in body or even smile, but gone from life to his
home in Heaven’s place.
With but a
single tear upon her cheek, she bent down to kiss him on the lips, stroke his
arm and chest. A soft sigh uttered across her lips as she sat down to
telephone Richard and Elizabeth. Anna then called the family doctor who
said he’d be right there with the necessary authorities. Without missing
a beat, Anna got up, washed and dressed and made a pot of coffee. She
opened the newspaper as she always had before and sat by the window to wait for
everyone to show.
Days after the
funeral, Richard and Elizabeth convinced Anna to move into a retirement
community where she could again be active and at her own pace. Reluctantly she
agreed but not without a continued looking back, even after two years and
feigned involvement, staying busy to stay busy and each day she’d walk up to
the windows or doors, waiting as she always had and had done for so very long.
One day, in a
sweeping change, Anna hurriedly showered and dressed as if she’d been invited
to high tea with the Queen of England. Signing herself out at the front
desk of the retirement community she got into the taxicab that she’d ordered and
went to her old house, the one she’d shared with George and raised their
children in; the very one, that they’d been unable to sell.
Reaching into
her purse she pulled out her old set of keys and bid the taxi driver farewell
at the door. Happily the locks were still the same and she was able to
enter. Although things had been boxed up, she quickly found what she was
looking for, the coffee pot and a canister of coffee; she even found cups. She
was overjoyed! Hurriedly she dusted about the house, straightening
it up just so, then noticing the clock and the time she put away her dusting
cloth, put on a pot of coffee, combed her hair and putting a little color on
her lips. Finding a newspaper still folded, she unfolded it, readying it for
reading and sat down by the window to wait.
Richard and
Elizabeth were quite distraught when the community telephoned them to inform
them of their mother’s departure and failure to return. Unsure initially
of what to do, on a lark, they decided to drive by the house and in the window was the silhouette of a woman, it was their mother waiting as she always had. With Richard busy parking the car Elizabeth rushed in, ready to give her mother the business for worrying them, but
she was gone. She had passed away in the very chair she sat in so often.
But their dismay and sadness was soon replaced with joy and delight for they
noticed the table. Upon the table, perfectly placed was a newspaper –
opened to be read. There was a pot of coffee and two cups, both of them
with a little coffee in the bottom. And there was one other thing, there as a
bow tie, the one their father wore when they buried him. There, their mother
had sat, waiting for him and going home.
