Gone.

He was gone. Her best friend.

Gone.

Forever.

Only the memories remained. She was 19, he was 21 when they first fell in love. He was in the army, she was a nurse. He was tall and dark and handsome, she had big, blue eyes full of hope and dreams that twinkled when she laughed. They were crazy about each other. They were married that year, and only grew happier with every passing day. Together, they had had three children, who grew, married, and had children of their own, who in turn, raised families of their own.

Together they had shared the happiest years of their lives. They had shared laughter and joys, tears and sorrows, trials and tribulations. They had seen so much, experienced so much.

They had grown old together.

Now, he was gone. After seventy sweet years of marital bliss, he had gone ahead of her. He was now somewhere between this world and the next, or perhaps his soul only slept until the coming of the Judge at the end of the age.

The room was cold. The white sunbeams glittered on the walls through the small crack in the shutters. The bed was made, the sheets pulled up. He would lie there no more. No longer would she see that sweet smile or hear his silvery laughter travel through the little white house. She would, she must, live out the rest of her days alone.

What would she do? How could she face this world without him who had so long been her comforter?

The shutters creaked as she pulled them open. She looked out through the dusty windowpane, out over the field and watched as the tall grass gently swayed in the October breeze. The world seemed empty now.

He was gone, yet still there. Through her tears, she smiled. There was still hope. He had gone ahead of her, but she could rejoice. For he was face to face with One far greater than he or she. Someone worth living for. Worth dying for. She would be happy.

She would wait.

~

"All that remains for me
Is but to love and sing,
And wait until the angels come
To bear me to the King."