[Lost] A death in the family

[akonken.livejournal.com]

Rosemary Wheelock looks out of the kitchen window, blowing at her tea. It's a warm day, but she hasn't opened the window yet, letting the heat beat against her old bones. She can hear the murmur of people in the other room, but they are leaving her alone right now. She doesn't mind; she enjoys solitude. Always did, even when Henry was alive. She spends hours in her garden, which is why her skin is so weathered now. It's been harder the past few years, with the hip problems and arthritis, but she still goes out every day and tends to the flowers.

One of her neighbours comes in - Mrs Marshall, from two doors down, with the flat-faced dog that doesn't like her - and gives her condolences over a paper plate of cheese salad. Rosemary takes the condolences without much of a reaction, staring at Mrs Marshall until she goes away.

The truth is Rosemary doesn't feel sad that Henry is dead. His mind had been going in the past several months from Alzheimer's, and she is relieved. For several weeks before he died, Henry acted afraid of her, called her a thing, and sometimes even acted like he couldn't see her at all. It's heartbreaking if you think about it, but she doesn't think about it. Her heart isn't broken.

The only thing Rosemary can think as she puts her teacup down and turns back toward the wake is that at least she lived her childhood dream. She was as pretty as her mother, and married a soldier.

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