I firmly believe the Soul lives forever. Isn’t that what Easter is all about anyhow?
ETERNAL
His
voice always haunted me, with intonations of Great Britain, and honour and
chivalry. His deep, mellow tone called
me home every time I heard it.
I was
not yet twenty when he first spoke to me in my car. It was late at night as I drove home from
some outing. His voice talked to me from
my radio on the only station I received.
For several years and with the wisdom of maturity, he informed me of
politics and current events and community concerns and social mores, always
with some ironic twist at the end. He
was a date I counted on.
The
years passed. I married and moved away
and then returned. His radio station
died. But he found rebirth elsewhere on
the dial. My marriage ended and I sought
the solace of the voice I knew.
Eventually
I sent him poetry of mine. He read it on
the air. I wrote again, and once more he
read my poem, his noble voice pronouncing my written words. I sensed a union consummated before we even
met.
He
sought me out by mail and invited me for a long, romantic lunch. His words bade me come to hear his voice in
person, and so I did.
We
met, we talked, we listened, our minds reaching out to entwine each other’s
heart. On parting, he kissed the inside
of my wrist and asked when we might meet again.
We set a date and time for our first tryst.
It
was the beginning of a ten year love affair.
Each of us only wanted the loving, the coming together in pure joy, and
then parting to live our separate lives.
I gave him back his youth. He
gave me back my faith in love.
Then
after ten years of only the loving, I needed more. I gave my heart and daily life to
another. Certain the love affair was
ended, I moved on. But I wasn’t prepared
for the shock of his voice grasping for the memories stored in my heart each
time I inadvertently heard him on the radio.
He
haunted me that way for years. Until one
night in a dream he berated me for leaving him.
The next day, the haunting ceased when I read his obituary in the
newspaper. I no longer hear his voice on
the radio. Now he simply speaks his name
inside my mind and the secret caress of his unseen presence tells me the love
we shared is eternal.
________________________________
By Lisa A. Hatton
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