The Long Years

Content Warning: Death and Grief

1166 words

The Long Years

           Francine stood on the corner with Alan’s dog, a little mongrel, mostly dachshund and terrier, which had helped her get through the first months after he had passed. No matter that it seemed as if Alan cared more for the dog than for her these last five years. Maybe he did. He never closed the door to his study, nor the bathroom door for that matter, and once while she was coming up the stairs, she had heard him tell a friend on the phone, “Derry doesn’t complain and is never after me to put down the toilet seat.”

           She knew she wasn’t a nag and as for the toilet seat, it wasn’t any secret what he was doing in there since he never closed the door. I kept telling him it’s more sanitary to close the seat when you flush, otherwise the spray and who knows what else gets into the air.

           She paused, watched as Derry did his business, and praised him, “Good dog. Now wait,” and got out a doggy bag to pick up after him. Francine was in no hurry and they took turns, one dragging the other for another thirty minutes. My girlfriends tell me the color has come back into my face; it must be all this dog walking.

           Francine called her younger sister who lived on the West Coast. “Six months. They say that the first six months are the hardest. Then the new patterns appear: where and how often I food shop, what movies I see, and where I dine out. You know how Alan liked a good cut of meat but now I buy mostly salmon and the chain store’s is good enough.”

           Her sister commiserated. “We’re always cooking for our men. I don’t think Charlie even knows what’s my favorite dish. You know my friend Tammy. She told me it was years after her husband left her before she could go out by herself. And this was all pre-COVID. ‘And then I had to see whatever movie what’s-her-face wanted to see, ditto for restaurants. Gag!’ She said I was different. I always asked her where she wanted to go. It’ll take time, Francie. Don’t worry.”

           Francine could see some of the new patterns. Her own kids, who after the funeral were calling once a week, or driving back to town every month, were now calling less often and were already talking about maybe, only maybe, visiting over the summer. “You know how it is, Mom. Kids have summer school and then camp. And then complain they have to work all year and never have any fun. But we’ll come at least once, I promise.”

           But Tommy, Alan’s nephew, was a rock. He came by every Sunday to see if there were any little things that needed doing. Francine was proud. It couldn’t have been easy, Alan stepping in to help the boy while his brother dealt with his own demons. I’d be lost without Tommy’s help.

           Francine was alone with Derry during the week since Tommy worked in an accounting office downtown. Initially, it was clear that the dog favored him, all but nipping at his heals. Now, six months later, after a few happy yaps and licks, Derry would run back to his mistress and Tommy would cheerfully start on the TO-DO list.

           Sometimes he would come early on Sunday morning, bringing coffee and sweet rolls from a local coffee roaster. They would sit in the breakfast nook, sharing silence or memories of Alan.

           Most often the conversation was innocuous: the weather, the local sports teams of which Alan had taken an interest or just “Mom says to say hello and say she asked after your health – ‘Tell Aunt Francie she should call…not be a stranger.’” Tommy would swallow and look at his coffee cup. He knew his mother never called her sister-in-law.

           Six more months passed slowly. Francine’s son Howie came in July for a long weekend. “Busy, busy, busy, Mom, you know how it is – me and Stephie would run you and Dad ragged every summer until we were old enough for you to ship us off to an overnight camp.”

           Stephie came with her two kids in the middle of August. “We can’t stay for more than two days, Mom. Herbie and Helen must have grown three inches while they were in camp. We need to get back home and buy them both new clothes before the start of the school year. Even if the classes are online, they need new outfits. You know how kids are.”

           Francine lit a candle on the anniversary of Alan’s passing. She left the small candle on the table in the breakfast nook. She explained to Tommy that one of her Jewish friends had given it to her. “They call it a Yahrzeit Licht, saying the flame is a symbol of the soul with the smoke rising towards heaven. I think it’s a nice custom. I’m sure Alan wouldn’t mind.” She didn’t tell him she had sat there with the candle, nursing a glass with his special Islay Scotch until the ice cubes were dissolved and the glass dry.

           A month later, Tommy said he couldn’t come on Sunday during the day but would like to bring over Thai takeout for dinner.

           Francine suspected he had something serious he needed to share.

           Dinner was solemn. Tommy’s few attempts at levity fell flat. After dinner, he cleared the table and put the leftover rice in the refrigerator.

           When he returned, Francine tried to laugh and her voice cracked when she said, “OK, Tommy, I don’t need a fortune cookie to tell me something serious is in the works. I’m your aunt and you can spit it out.”

           “Well, it’s serious but it’s nothing fatal. I just got a promotion, and I must move to the regional headquarters two states away. More work too; but I can’t turn them down.”

           “Please, Tommy, I understand. You’d be a fool not to take it. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. I know you’ll visit when you can. And a letter or a call occasionally will be wonderful. Don’t worry. You go ahead – with my blessings too.”

           “Thank you, Aunt Francie. I knew you’d understand. It’s just that I was worried about all the long years ahead.”

           “Well then, before you move, you’ll have to show me how we could do this Facetime thing my grandkids are talking about.”

           Tommy laughed. “Oh, I certainly will. I don’t have to move for another three weeks. I’ll call and come by.

           There were more than a few things to do before he was ready to leave, and Tommy never had a moment free to visit his aunt. On the flight to his new location, he recalled his promise about Facetime. And only when he entered his new apartment did he remember saying he was worried about all the long years ahead that Francine would now be facing alone.