I loved my spouse, Elias, more than words can convey. We met when he was 52 and I was 39. He was nice and caring, and he made you feel like you mattered. We fell in love swiftly and deeply, and we got married within a year. Life seemed great.
But things altered only a few years later. Elias was told that he had stage 4 pancreatic cancer.
For two years, I took care of him all the time. I bathed him, fed him, and sat next to him through every wave of pain, holding his hand through the worst of it. Jordan and Maya, his kids, didn’t come around very much. They did that for a short time. They would say, “It’s too hard to see Dad like this.” And it could have been. But I stayed because I loved him. I couldn’t imagine not being there for him.
One day, Elias was gone.
The next morning, Jordan and Maya came to our house, which was the same house that Elias and I had lived in. No hugs or kind words. Just a cold voice and steely eyes stating, “Dad left the house to us.” We’re throwing it away. You have until the end of the week to go.
I was shocked. No room for grief. They didn’t get what I had been through with their dad. Being unfaithful is all.
Four days later, I stood at the end of the driveway with two big bags. There was more than just clothes in each one. They carried memories, heartbreak, and the pain of being left behind by people who should have cared.
I didn’t have a place to go. No plan. My heart was full with pain.
My phone rang after that. Someone I don’t know texted me, “Check the Fremont storage unit.” 112th locker. Elias wants you to have it.
I read the message and wasn’t sure if it was a nasty joke. But something inside me told me to keep going.
When I got to the building, the manager looked at my ID and gave me a key. He smiled knowingly and said, “You now own Locker 112.”
My hands shook as I opened the door. Inside, there was a small room with sealed boxes, a wooden chest, and a pile of letters that were all for me.
Elias had made provisions for this.
He knew what was going to happen. He knew how his kids would treat me. And he made sure I was okay in his calm, watchful way.
The letters said how much he loved me, how sad he was, and what he wanted for me. There was a box with a bunch of jewels in it, maybe from his wife who died. The chest held the greatest diamond ring I had ever seen, which was safely protected by a velvety purple casing.
There were also several papers. Three vacation homes in different locations of the country. Everything is in my name.
I cried.
Elias loved more than only me. He had kept me secure even after he died.
A few months later, I moved into one of those places, which was a quiet place to go away in the Colorado Rockies. I slowly rebuilt my life, with the peaceful beauty of nature and the memory of a man who always loved me.
Elias’s kids may have kicked me out of the house we shared, but they couldn’t change how we felt for each other. Real love doesn’t merely leave things behind. It leaves behind a legacy, safety, and peace.
And I finally got all three.
