Under Your Sun

I woke to gentle knocks on the windowpane. Spring had finally arrived. I squinted as I parted the curtains and smiled to see tiny birds springing along the ledge. I told you they were cute, no larger than your fist.

“Hey, how about some sun today?” I asked as I reached back to the bed and kissed your cheek.

Our kitchen was filled with my favorite aroma—my coffee was percolating just on time. At the corner cupboard, I searched for the pair of gnome-shaped mugs you got from a farmer’s market a few years back, and I took one. The mug seemed fitting for a whimsical morning like this.

I used to like my coffee black, and for some reason, you had influenced me little by little.

“Come on, just try a little milk. Just for today!” You said it with a grin and I just couldn’t refuse.

I put the carton back in the fridge and blurted, “Well, someone’s running out of milk today!”

We’d been re-reading this book for a few days. It was about a young boy and a Cemetery of Forgotten Books in postwar Barcelona. It sat on your desk in your office-library, enjoying the extra attention among the hundreds still perched on your shelves. You bossed me around while I built them.

You’d read it even before we met, and you dragged my ass to Barcelona for our honeymoon because of it.

I went to place it on the table on our patio, alongside my coffee still steaming hot.

“Let’s go, honey. It’s a wonderful morning,” I said, as I fetched you from bed.

While I’d always been a hermit, you were a sunflower.

You needed the warmth on your skin. You loved to run around our lawn, telling me you were pretending to be in the misty fields of the English countryside.

Someday, I’d bring you there, I said. You came running into me like you’d won the lottery. Little did you know, I’m pretty certain I did.

Back on the patio, my hand squeezed yours a little too tightly. You did not stir. I let go as I opened your book and read you the part where the boy has just met his first love. It had always been my favorite part, even though our story couldn’t be more different.

“Good morning, Mr. Thompson. I thought I’d find you here.” I was a little startled and had to apologize. I guess I had daydreamed too long and hadn’t noticed it was already time for your bath.

The nurse unlocked your wheelchair, and I kissed you goodbye. I’ll finish my coffee out here for now.

I hope you don’t mind, honey, but I think I’ll stay a little longer under your sun.

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