Ghostly lovers have been recorded through out history, many such stories have been memorialized on film, and one that comes to mind is "Ghost" with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze. Whether their real or simply the fantasy of lonely lovers, you may never know unless you have one visit you in some remarkable way!
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The events of the past week still seemed surreal, as though I was living a nightmare. John's presence invaded every nook in the house. The house pulsed with his memory. The delightful smell of his scent permeated the air as it moved lightly across his favorite aftershave that still sat on the bathroom counter beside the sink. Once again I read the hidden inscription on my wedding band, "My Love, My Heart, My Soul, Forever – John", remembering how John and I had both decided on the same identical inscriptions, the only difference being our names. John wore a ring with my name and I wore one with his.
I slipped the wedding band off my finger, rolled it around in my palm, and watched as it slid down the crystal ring holder that John had given me for Christmas. Tears streamed down my face as I slid slowly down into the tub and felt the hot steamy water embrace my skin. With a dripping warm washcloth covering my eyes, I tried to stop the pounding in my head as a vivid recollection, one that haunted my every waking moment for the past week, flashed through my mind.
Two Marine officers in Dress Blues knocked on my door, a chaplain, and the commanding officer of my husband's squadron. I invited them in. They removed their covers, stood in the living room, and read a prepared document signed by the President of the United States. I felt as though I had frozen in limbo where all actions were impossible. It was difficult to swallow and I lost my voice as they handed me a small box. It contained my husband's purple heart. All I could hear while they continued to talk was my heartbeat throbbing in my ears.
I attended the funeral in a zombie type daze. We, my parents and I, arrived at the church early so we could finish all the paperwork necessary for the burial. Representatives from the VFW were taking their places. Mom gave me a hug as I stepped up to the coffin and gazed down at my husband. Quiet. Still. Sleeping. A glint shimmered off John's wedding band and caught my eye as I instinctively straightened then smoothed down his collar. I reached for a flower out of an arrangement that graced the mahogany box and felt as though all the pent up emotions flowed down my arm, through my fingers and into that single white rose. I stepped back, placed the rose on his chest, nodded, and they closed the lid. A couple of John's friends dressed in Marine Corps Blues came forward and draped a memorial flag across the casket.
My head throbbed as I slowly sank further down in the tub seeking any kind of sanctum that would erase the reality that continuously surrounded me. With my hair swimming around my face I silently consoled myself, "You can do this, Beth. Just get through today, tomorrow will be easier." The delicious peace was broken as I gasped for air and surfaced.
"Beth, are you about ready?"
"Yeah, Mom." I took a deep breath and pulled myself out of the tub. "I'll be down in a few minutes."
"Alright Sweetie, Dad and I have to run to the store and pick up some more candy, we'll be right back to get you."
"That's fine, Mom. Why don't I meet you guys at your place, all I need to do is brush my hair and get dressed."
"Are you going to wear a costume this year? Just curious, Hun." Mom knew that Halloween was John's favorite holiday.
Each year John and I sat on the front porch in one costume or another and handed out treats to the neighborhood kids. I smiled as I remembered the year he dressed up as Frankenstein. He purchased a gruesome rubber mask from a novelty shop in the mall. It had a green face with a peg protruding out both sides of the skull and blood dripping down the enlarged forehead. We stuffed his sleeves with straw and let it leak out of the cuffs producing the illusion of an overstuffed doll. Carved pumpkins filled with dry ice created a mysterious fog around his feet as his six foot frame sat rigidly still in an old rocker on the front porch. He quietly sat in the rocker and waited for the older kids to walk down the sidewalk and towards the house then when they got close, he would slowly stand and walk towards them. The kid's either froze or screamed and their eyes got as big as saucers when he first stood up. They loved it but a number of parents fell off our porch that year!
I swallowed hard and tried to manage a feeble answer. "Not this year, maybe next year." Fortunately, Mom had not noticed the tremor in my voice or she chose to ignore it.
Dad added his customary warning as they opened the front door to leave, "Be careful on the roads, Beth. The Rockies are treacherous this time of year. Watch for ice!" His tone had a degree of warmth and concern.
"I know, Dad. I'll be just fine."
"Alright, we'll see you in a bit."
I stared out the window and waited until their car had disappeared behind the neighboring houses then I looked in the bathroom mirror and pinched my cheeks watching as the indentations remained imbedded in the lifeless and hollow face staring back at me.
"Damn it, John! I can't do this alone!" My stomach churned with anxiety and frustration as my voice drifted away in the empty house.
After I got dressed, I picked up the used towels and headed down the hall to toss them down the laundry chute. As I passed our bedroom door, I froze and looked at the unkempt bed. I bit my lower lip in an attempt not to cry but the tears gushed.
Our last night together had not been about orgasms. Somehow, we knew. That night had moved in slow motion as we explored each other's bodies more intimately than we ever had before. I could tell that John was doing the same as me, making mental images that we could retrieve over the long months that lay ahead. John remained wedged between my legs longer than usual that night, tinkering with my clit, moving his fingers in and out of my slit, as though memorizing every detail of my sex. Then he lay beside me and cupped my breasts in his hands, gently kneading them. His tongue lapped leisurely over each hardened nub before pulling it into his mouth. My skin bristled as his hand moved smoothly over it, leaving a trail of warmth down my side and over my hips.
I lay beside him and traced his body with my fingers, running them lightly over his skin, committing to memory every mole, every freckle, and every scar. The way he smelled. The way he smiled. Every nuance progressed from my fingertips to the clicking camera in my brain and was being filed and stored for future use. How could I have known?
I shut the door, walked to the bathroom, and slid the precious ring off its holder. Once the ring was back on my finger, I grabbed a coat out of the closet and slid one arm into one sleeve, slipped my drivers license and change purse into my pocket then raced down the stairs and shuffled out the door. The temperature had dropped over twenty degrees since I got up that morning and it was getting colder. I noticed that ice had started to form on the sidewalk. I had no idea if it was my runaway emotions or the cold but my hands were trembling as I slid the keys into the ignition. I took a deep breath and put the car in reverse.
My thoughts were reeling as I pulled away from the house but once I merged into traffic on the four-lane highway, I rolled the windows down and sucked the fresh mountain air deep into my lungs. "This too will pass," I kept telling myself. I turned the radio up trying to drown out the thoughts that kept racing through my head.
