literature

A Shooting Star

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Literature Text

She had never understood why people sometimes said the stars were cold.  She understood how the moon could be cold; it could drop down to -150 degrees Celsius at night, but stars?  Stars were burning gas.  They could never be cold, or so she thought; however, as Renee stood in the graveyard, she understood.  It was noon in the middle of July and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  Renee didn't feel the heat.  She didn't know how she could ever feel again.

One year.  That's how long they were married.  365 days.  George, her husband, had started feeling bad a few weeks into their marriage.  The doctor gave them the news with a grave face:  Cancer, strong and malignant, was raging through him.  George remained as cheerful as ever, though.  He enveloped Renee in a bear hug, saying, "Don't you worry, my girl.  With you by my side, I can beat anything life throws at me."  

A few months later, they made the decision to uproot their life and go to a special cancer center in Maine, quite a shock for Renee, born and raised in the swamps of Florida, but she would have moved to the Arctic if she thought it would help George.  The move to Maine in the middle of the winter was hard, but it seemed to be worth it.  The center was very good, and for a few months, it seemed like George was improving.  There was a large window in his hospital room with an excellent view of the sky.  Star gazing was a special activity for Renee and George.  They were both amateur astronomers, and had met at a gathering of a local astronomy club.

During the day, they tried to calculate the new positions of their favorite constellations and stars based on their new location.  Then, at night, they would see how accurate their findings were.  More and more, Renee found herself carrying conversation, as her husband began to fade away.  His ever present smile never left his face, but his eyes became tired and his skin began to pale.  The more he waned, the more Renee encouraged him.  George had always been the strong one, bearing his toothy grin like armor against the world's troubles.  Now, as his ubiquitous grin became strained, Renee began to be the rock of the relationship.  From carpeting his room with flowers to sneaking in chocolate, Renee did everything in her power to strengthen his smile, while the doctors attempted to strengthen his body.

It was nearly sunrise when he stirred with a groan.  Renee, who had been staring out the window fighting back tears, was at his side in a moment.  

"George?  What's wrong?  Do you need a doctor?"  He opened his eyes and looked at Renee.  Tears started to fill her eyes.  "No… George… no.  You have to keep fighting; you can't give up.  You can't leave… not yet…"  

He shakily raised his hand and ran it through her hair to rest on her face.  "I'm so sorry, my girl."  His voice, once full of vigor, was thin and weak.  "If I had known that this would have happened, then I never would have—" A cough stopped him, but Renee knew what he had been about to say.  A tear coursing down her face dropped onto George's cheek.  He wiped away her tears with a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you the life you deserved."  Renee clutched his hand tightly.

"All I ever wanted was you."  She bent down and gave him a gentle kiss.  "You gave me everything I could possibly want."  

George drew in a rattling breath and whispered, "I love you."

Renee didn't hear the birdsong signaling a new morning; she didn't hear the nurse and doctor running into the room; she didn't hear the constant whine of the machine telling her that her husband's heart had stopped.  All she heard was the echo of those whispered words, "I love you."

The funeral had ended at noon, but Renee stayed there until night fall.  She didn't know what she was waiting for, but she wouldn't, she couldn't leave.  She didn't cry; she didn't speak.  She sat in emptiness as the world darkened around her.  It was nearing midnight when a gust of wind blew at her back.  Without knowing why, she looked up at the night sky.   It was a clear night, perfect for star gazing.  She almost put her head down again, but another gust of wind prompted her to keep looking.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked across the sky before winking out next to Venus.

For the first time in many weeks, Renee smiled.

"I love you, too, George."
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quietkill's avatar
The mood and language in this are perfect. This is a really wonderful piece of writing!