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Just One Pillow

Story ID:9046
Written by:Michael Timothy Smith (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Caldwell ID USA
Year:2013
Person:Anyone
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Just One Pillow

The alarm clock began its constant chatter. Without opening my eyes, I reached
out and slapped the snooze button. There was silence. I drifted back to sleep.

Ten minutes later, the alarm screamed again. I slapped the snooze button, turned
to my right and reached for Ginny. My hand found empty space.

The alarm rang a third time. I rolled over and looked at the clock. The red
numbers advised me it was 6:30 AM.
I had to get up.

I grudgingly turned the alarm off and swung my feet to the floor.

I heard our little kitty's tiny mew. She stood in the doorway to the bedroom
and stared at me. She was at the foot of Ginny's side of the bed when I went to sleep,
but I must have kicked her off, as I made my way in that direction in search of my
missing bride.

"I know you miss your mommy, Callie. Ginny will be home in a week. You
know she needs to watch our grandchildren while Heather and Nathan are on their
vacation."

Callie just stared at me.

I got up, showered and shaved.

After I dressed, I made the bed and stood back to survey my work. The left side
of the bed, near the headboard, was deflated - empty. Ginny took her pillow with her,
when she left. My bed looked like a person missing a limb an amputee's empty sleeve
or pant leg pinned up.

Tears formed in my eyes a flashback: It was the morning after I'd moved
from Nova Scotia; it was the morning after I moved from New Brunswick to Ohio;
it was the morning after I moved from Ohio to New Jersey. Each time, my first wife,
Georgia, stayed behind with our two children to join me later.

There was only one pillow on the bed, but I knew it would soon have two again.

One morning I woke. Once again, there was only one pillow on the bed. It
was the day after Georgia died. Her pillow was downstairs on the sofa, where she spent
the last weeks of her life. My side of the bed was still warm after I showered, but the
other was cold - just one pillow on the bed.

I looked at our bed the morning Ginny was away and felt all the emotions I
experienced that terrible morning of October 11, 2003. They drowned me with pain.

There was only one pillow on a bed for two soup without a spoon; a sandwich
without bread.

Just one pillow!

Michael T. Smith

PS The picture is Georgia and I dancing at a Christmas party in the mif to late 80's.