After eleven years of marriage, Alex and I hadn’t had any children. We were too busy with our work, which ended up hurting our relationship.
Every year, on special days like our anniversary or Valentine’s Day, we’d go out to a nice restaurant for dinner. To me, these dinners felt more like a ritual than anything romantic.
I’ve always dreamed of traveling the world and experiencing different cultures. Since we didn’t have kids, I thought it would be possible and that these trips would bring us closer. But Alex always said no, calling the trips unnecessary and expensive. He was determined to save money for our retirement, promising we could travel then.
Eventually, I lost interest in love. Our routine was just coming home to eat and sleep.
To make things worse, Alex was diagnosed with a rare kind of cancer, and his days were numbered.
One day, as I was leaving work, I got a call from the hospital. “Mrs. Carson, there is a problem with your husband. It’s advisable that you come over here right away,” the nurse said.
My stomach turned at the thought of losing Alex so young, but my heart broke nonetheless. Even though I felt our relationship lacked passion, he was still my husband, the man I had spent most of my teenage years with.
I tried to hold back my tears as I drove to the hospital, wondering where it had all gone wrong. What if we had tried harder as a couple?
When I arrived, Alex was hooked up to multiple machines, barely able to speak. But he made every effort to communicate his true feelings to me.
“Christie,” he began. “I want you to know that you are the most important person in the world, even though I know I didn’t get the chance to show you this.” He breathed heavily, speaking carefully. “I realized at one point that this love might not be mutual between us,” he said.
“Christie, I did not expect to leave this world so soon, but I do love you.” He reached for my hand. “I had so many things planned for us.” I grasped his hand, tears streaming down my face.
“Spending these final hours with you is all I could ask for. And I want to take a little piece of you with me when I pass away. So, if you could, please place something in my pocket at my burial so I can keep it forever.”
By this point, I was crying uncontrollably. Despite our differences, I still loved Alex deeply. “Alex, I swear to carry that out. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll see to my own needs. Go to sleep and keep an eye on me from up there.” I reassured him, “I’m glad you won’t have to suffer much longer.”
Alex nodded, keeping his hand on mine. “Is it unreasonable to request that I be buried wearing my beloved blue suit? You know which one,” he asked.
I nodded. “Of course. But don’t think about that now. Let’s cherish these moments together, alright?” I said, trying to stay brave.
I sat beside Alex for the next few hours. We talked about our past, listened to music, and sometimes just sat quietly, enjoying each other’s company. That night, Alex fell asleep and didn’t wake up again.
“Goodbye, Alex. Thank you,” I whispered, collapsing in grief. I shed a few tears as the medical professionals began removing the tubes from his body.
At his funeral, I walked up to him one last time and gently placed my locket in his coat pocket. The locket held one of our earliest pictures together and was the first gift Alex had given me in college. It symbolized the good times we shared, not the troubles at the end. “Alex, thank you for all the amazing years,” I whispered to him.
As I slipped the locket in, I noticed a piece of paper inside the pocket. Carefully, I pulled it out. It said, “For Christie,” in Alex’s handwriting. Though it was new to me, I realized Alex must have known he would die soon and had put it there. I tucked it away to read later.
That evening, I sat down to read the note. Alex had written:
To Christie,
I’m happy that I chose to spend the rest of my life with you because I’ve loved you my entire life. We became distant somewhere along the line, and I apologize for forgetting to live in the present while trying to show you how much I loved you.
When we were younger, you used to tell me about your dream of opening a cafe by the seaside where you could bake your delicious cake recipes and serve hearty meals. I never forgot this, and it inspired me to work hard every day. I apologize for neglecting you as this consumed all of my attention.
Christie, I came very close to seeing you realize this dream. In my safe, there is a bank passbook in your name. I have saved enough money for you to start your business. The documents for a piece of land with a small cottage overlooking the ocean are also in an envelope. This is where your cafe can be set up.
I never intended to leave this world so soon. I wanted to start this cafe together. I apologize for not being there to help you make this dream a reality, but know that I will always be with you in spirit.
I will always adore you with all of my heart.
Alex.
Reading the note, I broke down in tears. For so long, I had thought Alex wasn’t interested in me or our relationship. I felt guilty for not talking to him about our problems while I still had the chance.
“I’m sorry for letting go so quickly, Alex,” I cried. “I wish I could turn back time.”
That night, I spent hours talking to Alex in prayer, sharing my regrets and his dreams. It took time to adjust to his passing, but gradually, I began planning the cafe’s launch, knowing it was what Alex would have wanted.
A few months later, I was ready to open the cafe. I named it Uncle Alex’s Seaside Cafe, inspired by my husband’s memory.
