They appeared one day, unwelcome but inevitably here to stay. I won't question any deeper meanings as to why, for that is something one does in their youth, when they have their life in front of them and all the time in the world. An old woman touches on the thought but does not dwell, she knows life really is too short.

In the early years they were nothing more than distant memories, after almost a decade had past, they came to stay. This old girl's ego took the battering of a lifetime. Wouldn't you know it, to this day, those same insecurities still remain. When terrified you will loose the one who is closest to you, it scars, scars deep. Time may heal wounds, but not all of them. Even now I look over, watch him dozing in the shade of the cherry plum tree and marvel at the man he is and can't help but wonder yet again why he chose me, of all people. It is one of those few foolish things that I've always allowed myself, to remain in love with him, against my better judgment.

The children have long gone. Their shrieks of laughter and constant chatter grown up, off to their own adventures. They are good people. I did the best I could with them, but the ghosts, clouded a lot of the time I should have been mothering. In the end they turned out okay. Happy. I can't ask for anything more. When they were little I was so jealous of our time. Time for just the two of us, time to talk, time to laugh, time for hands. The ghosts occupied some of that time, I still don't think he realizes what I was complaining about when I complained. Once the little ones left the nest, I had more time with him, and the ghosts.

I offered many times to liberate him from myself. Give him all the time he needs, all the time in the world. He declined every time. To this day I still wonder why. Not that I wanted to leave, him, but the anguish that they caused me, these ghosts, was beyond words. I'm still jealous of our time. When he goes into the shell and I am left here with my words to share with nobody but the migrating birds over head and the sun. Makes this old girl lonely.

I take back what I said, an old woman does have time to ponder those things. She is just wise enough to move on quickly. I'll be going, back in to the house, prepare those greens we picked earlier today in the garden. You should see those tomatoes, best ones we've grown yet.

Then I'll wake him, and we'll have some time.

© Wendy Wonnacott