“Three more minutes.” She whispered to herself.
The last few hours were the hardest for her. She took out the antique wooden box from her closet with a name carved on it “Rehma”. The box was opened once a year. As she placed the box on the table with her shivering hands, it opened with a sweet smell of lilac.
There laid an envelope saying
She took out the envelope, and a dry red rose came out along with a letter. She started reading with her waver, shaky voice..
“Happy 40th anniversary!
How has been your year? You miss me? So do I. Its been 40 years. We have come a long way. How have you managed to look good all these years? Probably, those turmeric masks helped you. Haha! Have your hairs turned white yet? Must have! And that coconut oil you used? With that terrible smell, must have stopped working on you by now. I can’t see you right now but I can picture how you look.
Remember you wrote me a letter before we got married. How excited you were to start a new chapter with me. The adventures, our home, children. Ahh that letter… That day I decided to write you a love letter every year, on our anniversary. I know it’s a little silly but I thought I’d try.
Marriage is one of the best things happened to me. You brought smiles in and out. My life was beautiful because of you my love. It falls in the category of Perfection. I know you’re shy nature didn’t let you open up to me, but your eyes spoke of the love you had for me.
I hope Reham and Humaid visit you every weekend. How many grandkids do we have now? I know you must be the best grandma as you were a best mother. No doubt we faced a lot of hardships together but we always have survived. Till the cancer took me away.
Watching me die wasn’t easy for you. But trust me, I am in a better place now, because I can’t hear you chatting and complaining all day.
I know you’re alone and you miss me terribly. But I will see you soon. Soon! One day!
So, if you’re dying better read the whole stack in the box. Just to know how badly i miss you. Else, we will meet next year and you can narrate me hundred of stories happening around. Meanwhile, you dose on your tablets. And take good care of yourself. Our kids need you. Be strong!
Love you Rehma!
A great sob escaped her, and she covered her face with her shaking hands. She could hold the heartbeat no longer and she fell to the floor in a disheveled heap as her grief poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears.
Author: KANWAL UMAR