What Harry Knew
Jenny Peters
The willow trees sway in the hot August breeze. I can see them as I stand at the entrance to the garden. To my left I spot the largest tree and I feel my pulse quicken as I find her name on the stone in the grass. I have been away so long.
"Grandma I tried to say good-by, but I still miss you so much," I choke out through my sobbing.
"I don't think you can ever stop missin' 'em," a low, soft voice says from behind me. Startled, I whip around, trying to clumsily wipe away the tears.
"What did you say?" Before me stands an elderly man, about sixty-five or so. His face is well-weathered and his nose is all wrinkly like its been sunburned too many times. He's got a couple of teeth missing, but his sheepish smile puts me at ease.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya. Name's Harry," he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his navy trousers and glancing toward the ground.
"I'm Michelle," I say, glancing backward towards grandma's grave, hoping that he'll realize that I want to be left alone.
"Um, Miss," he interjects haltingly, interrupting my reverie once more. "bu asked me what I said."
"What are you talking about?" I respond shortly, upset that he did not get the hint.
"Well, I said that I don't think you can ever stop missin' 'em — your dead loved ones I mean."
"I know who you mean," I retort, wondering why he had put it like that.
"See that new grave over there?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's my Rose and I don't figure that I'll ever forgive that cancer for robbin' her from me." I can hear the leaves rustling in the trees. "I just buried her yesterday," he continued, "I don't know why I'm here, 'cept I just didn't know where else to go." Harry does not look at me and does not speak; he only stares at the tree. I look away.
Suddenly he nods in the direction of Grandma's grave and asks, "She been buried long?"
“Nine years today.”
“Then why is your heart still breakin’ child?”
“What?”
“Listen, I just buried my wife yesterday and you look more broken up than most widowers I know,” he laughs.
“Look, Harry, some people need more than a day to get over losing someone they love!”
“I know your pain is real child; I watched my Rosie die. I’m glad to see she’s not sufferin’ anymore but I miss her somethin’ awful... Maybe I came back to remember.” I look up at Harry and stare into his steel blue eyes. Somehow, it eases my anger.
“I just don’t know why...” I whisper, “why it hurst so much.”
“That’s what I’m tellin’ ya child; somethin’s eatin’ at ya.”
“Harry, when Rose died, did you get to say goodbye? Did you get to tell her that you loved her one last time?”
He answers so softly that his voice sounds only like low rumblings. “Child, when my Rosie breathed her last, I was sound asleep. You see, I had known the end was comin’ soon and I wanted to bethere like you were talkin’ about, but I got real tired.” Harry shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. “I fell asleep and when the nurse woke me, it was to say that it was all over.”
I look down at Grandma’a grave. “Harry, how can you be sure that she knew?”
“Knew that I loved her?” he laughs, “Child, death shouldn’t get the fanfare, life should. My Rosie taught me that. Why, just thinkin’ about it now, our life had enough fanfare for royalty! That’s what I wanna remember.” He lifts my chin so that I can look into his eyes and for a moment, I remember too. “Child, they know you love them...they know.” He nods again towards Grandma’s grave. “Do you ever doubt even for one second child that she loved you?”
I bite my lower lip and shake my head. I bend down to brusg away the dust and leaves from the marble; I read the words “beloved mother” and know that she was.
I look up to thank Harry, but he is gone. So I sit alone, listening to the breeze make the willows sing.
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