The Red Velvet Box

She loved him. Dear Heavens, how she loved him!

He was the other half of her soul and without him her life was meaningless.

She had lots of photos and things like his favourite pipe in its stand on the mantle and his slippers under his side of the high old bed where they usually solved the problems of the world over Sunday breakfast with the papers, and solved a lot of their own problems with gentle heart-searching discussions securely wrapped in each other’s arms. In the lounge-room was his big old lounge chair where she sat occasionally when she needed the comfort of his nearness.

Her very special treasures were kept in a red velvet box that he had given her before their wedding filled with heart-shaped chocolates. That box was always within easy reach of her hand.

They were everything to each other, and, not being blessed with children, they built their lives each around the other.

They purchased land in a bush setting with a spring-fed creek meandering through it. The land rose gently to a small hill at the top of which he built their home, putting a verandah at the front where they were able to sit and enjoy the view over the surrounding countryside. It was quiet and peaceful, being set well back from the main road and with a broad band of bushland insulating them from the hustle and bustle and noise of the everyday world. How they enjoyed those times at the end of each day, relaxing in each other’s company, discussing their respective days and their plans for spring gardens and orchard trees!

Then came the letter!

After a lot of serious discussion and even some argument, he reported to the office and was accepted back into active service. There were to be no more short forays away with the Army Reserves – he was re-joining them for the express purpose of training others in his field of specialised expertise but it meant going overseas. Six months, they said, and then he would be back home. All he had to do was train younger men to do his job.

She clutched him fiercely to her, knowing there would be no more hugs for a long time, dreading the time she would be spending alone.

The morning he donned his uniform, packed his kitbag and strode down the path to the waiting army vehicle, she thought her heart would break, but she clung to the knowledge that in six months he would be back.

He never came back. The army said it was a mine.

All that was forty years ago and now she was sitting in her wheelchair on the verandah waiting for the Community Transport vehicle to take her to the care facility where she would spend the rest of her days. The young couple, so much like themselves, who had bought the property would be moving in over the weekend to bring life and love back to the small, sad house.

While she waited, she let her mind wander back through time, back to that day when she saw him for the last time – tall and strong, striding down the path to go do what he could to help his country.

Her fingers gently caressed the little red velvet box. It contained a couple of his medals, unimportant to her because he had always been her hero and that needed no medals, and the three precious letters she had received from him after he left. They told her of his love for her and how much he relished the time they spent together and would again when he arrived back home. He told her of the enjoyment he received in being able to pass on his specialised knowledge to his young protégés and how quickly they were learning. Over and over he spoke of his love for her. She could almost feel his heart beating through the pages.

The letters were worn and frayed at the creases from frequent handling but whenever she read them, she felt he was near. Her trembling old fingers carefully opened the first one again and she began to read it aloud to herself. As she read, the voice she heard declaring his love deepened and became stronger. Her heart beat faster her eyes raced ahead, wanting to see, to know, to learn again how much he loved her. She reached the end of the page and raised her eyes, now clear and bright, and saw him striding towards her, arms outstretched in welcome and love shining out of his eyes. She quickly rose and went to meet him, smiling a welcome and together they turned and walked into eternity.

The driver found her there, the letter in one hand and the other gently enfolding the red box. Her smiling face and eyes gazing off into the distance told the story of her reunion with the one beloved of her heart.

The red box with its precious contents was in her hands when she was laid to rest beside him in the little cemetery.