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Changing Seasons

The day was dark enough without the addition of the snowfall pelting the ground, blanketing the casket that now held my dear wife of some thirty-five years. I didn't feel the cold however, I was already numb emotionally as I stood there.

Standing by my side were my two daughters, Rachel and Kimberly, along with my son Pete home on emergency leave from the service. Hard enough on them burying their mother during a near blinding snow storm, each one of them berating themselves for not being there by her side when she passed. But Karen hadn't wanted it to be that way. Her last visit with the kids, well...our daughters anyway, had been six weeks prior to all this. We'd gone home, home where I called it anyway, where the kids lived, not where we did. What I didn't know, and what Karen obviously did know, was that we were coming home for the last time. Time enough to say good-bye without saying it.

We had moved from Utah to Arizona almost six years ago. We did so for my wife's asthma more than anything, though at the time we had no idea she would soon be fighting an even greater problem than that. She had breast cancer, which turned out to be a rather aggressive form of it on top of everything else. At first, we kept it from the kids of course until such time as she began really radical treatments. We'd hoped with that, she'd be one of the lucky few and beat it. She wasn't. ...

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