Letter to My Dear Wife
Since the TOTW submissions thread disappeared a day before I thought it did ( could have sworn it was MondayI've decided to post it here as to not have it go to waste. Enjoy!
Dear Ellen,
I’m dying. I know that to read something like this at the beginning of a letter from a loved one is very undiplomatic but I don’t know how else to say to it. I never had your gift of elegant writing, but you never put me down for it so I feel comfortable being so blunt and inelegant in relating this terrible news to you.
Of what I am dying, you’re probably asking yourself. Well, its silicosis, a respiratory disease that ravages the lungs after breathing in silica dust. It was the silver mine which exposed me to the tiny particles of death, the very mine that you said would be the death of me. I should have listened to you but my greed had such an incredible hold me that failed to even listen to you, my dear wife, who looked only to welfare and happiness. And now I am to suffer the consequences of my folly.
But don’t fret my dear; I’m not alone, even if it is your confounded dog I have here for company. I never knew what you saw in him. He still chews up my shoes, digs up the yard, and takes a swim in the lake only to shake himself dry in our house. Only last week, instead of doing this dreadful task in the kitchen, he walks right into my study where I was reading, and with that mischievous grin he makes when he knows he is doing something I would rather him not do, he proceeds to shake water over my antique clocks. I must confess I lost my temper and had it not been that you loved that dog so much, I would have immediately gave him away to someone who would better appreciate his “lovable” traits. So as I sit here writing this letter on the porch, your dog delightfully barks at the seldom passing car with the start of a mischievous grin on his face and shiny, dry coat of hair.
Oh, I find myself laughing now. Just to think that I am writing a letter to you, Ellen, who has passed on almost three years ago! I ordinarily wouldn’t think of doing something this fanciful, but a dying man must be allowed some indulgences I guess. I know you wouldn’t mind. You probably would have encouraged me in this endeavor finally exalting in the fact that despite what I have been saying all these years, I do in fact have an imagination. Ah, how I’ve missed you and your encouragements these last few years, but I am comforted that even in death, we shall not always be separated. So until we meet again before God in the land beyond the sky, I’ll keep the faith, live life to its fullest and feed your “endearing” dog.
Your Loving Husband, Earl
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