Words from the Heart

The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone

- Harriet Beecher Stowe

Tis is a short story that I read from a Chicken Soup book and I juz loved t. Its so damn true!!

Hope everybody who reads tis enjoy it and relate to the story as I did....

Most people need to hear those “three little words”. Once in a while they hear them just in time.

I met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice ward, where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband, Bill, was there nearby as she was transferred from the gurney to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer, she was cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished making her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using then asked if she needed anything.

“Oh yes”, she said ,”would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy soaps everyday and I don’t want to get behind on what’s happening.”
Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas, romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted she confided in me how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her “a silly woman.”
“Oh I know Bill loves me”, she said, “but he has never been one to say he loves me or send cards to me”. She sighed and looked out of the window at the trees in the courtyard. “I’d give anything if he’d say ‘I love you’, but its not just his nature”.

Bill visited Connie everyday. In the beginning, he sat nest to her bed when she watched soaps. Later, when she began sleeping more, he paced up and down the hallway outside her room. Soon, when she no longer watched TV and fewer waking moments, I began spending more of my volunteer time with Bill.

He talked about having worked as a carpenter and how he loved fishing. He and Connie had no children, but they’d been enjoying retirement by traveling, until Connie got sick. Bill could not express his feelings about the fact that his wife was dying.

One day, over coffee, I got him on the subject of woman and how we need romance in our lives; how we love to get sentimental cards and love letters.
“Do you tell Connie you love her?” I asked(knowing his answer), and he looked at me as if I was crazy.
“I don’t have to. She knows I do! ,” he said. “I’m sure she knows but she needs to hear it from you. She needs to hear what she meant to you all these years. Please think about it.,” I said.
We walked back to Connie’s room. Bill disappeared inside and I left to visit another patient. He was holding her hand as she slept. The date was Feb 12th.
Two days later I walked down the hospice ward at noon. There stood Bill, leaning up against the wall in the hallway staring at the floor. I already knew from the head nurse that Connie had died at 11 am.

When Bill saw me, he allowed himself to come into my arms for a long hug. His face was wet with tears and he was trembling. Finally, he leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.
“I have something to say” he said. “I have to say how good I feel about telling her”. He stopped to blow his nose. “I thought a lot about what you said and this morning I told her how much I loved her….and loved being married to her. You shoulda seen her smile!”
I went into the room to say my own goodbye to Connie. There, on the bedside table, was a large Valentine card from Bill. You know, the sentimental kind that says, “To my wonderful wife………..I love you”.

Siging off

Krithi