The doctor had just left after giving us the gut wrenching news, Sam had six months left to live. I fought back tears, struggling to inhale air through the huge lump in my throat.
Sam hadn’t been feeling well lately, but neither of us had considered cancer.
Sam took my hand and kissed the back of it. All I could think of was how we always told each other we both wanted to be the first to die because neither of us wanted to live without the other. Our union had lasted through 54 years of marriage, four children, seven grandchildren and now three great-grandchildren. The agony of thinking of living without my life partner and best friend was unbearable. Sam reached for me and gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“Darling, remember how we wanted to go to Niagara Falls for our honeymoon but we couldn’t afford to go at the time? Let’s go home and start packing our bags. We have a honeymoon to finish.”
No longer able to contain my emotions, I started crying and sobbing. Sam hugged me and whispered,
“Be sure and take that sexy nightie.”
“What?! At my age?” I laughed.
Photo Credit: Joe Owens
This story is being submitted for Sunday Photo Fiction, kindly hosted by Joe Owens. Joe gives us the photo prompt to assist us in creating our stories. We are challenged to write a story of 200 words or less and that it relate to the photo in some manner. Everyone is welcome to participate. If you are interested, please click on above link.