The Velvet Box

She opened up his cabinet that he had kept locked for years,
She wondered what would be inside as she looked through tears.
No longer was it private as she viewed what was inside,
Her loving husband was now gone, two weeks ago he died.

She knew it was all personal but really not a secret,
It was his special little things as safe as he could keep it.
Old momentos from his past and things from years ago,
Little things he loved to bring out now and then to show.

On the top shelf was his albums withered now with age,
She remembered how he sat and flipped from page to page.
Telling her about the pictures as he looked inside,
Most were from his army years, he never lost the pride.

Then there was the souvenirs he brought back from the war,
And his metals, he would always tell what they were for.
He even had his army boots still polished clean and bright,
And a brass belt buckle shined so bright it gleamed as light.

Some old 8 super movies taken many years ago,
She wondered why he kept them, he had made a video.
And transferred all the movies to a brand new VHS,
Maybe he just didn't trust the new thing was her guess.

Boxes filled with pictures that he took and filed away,
Thinking he would make an album adding them one day.
Home made crafts and art work that the kids had made for him,
And Father's day and Birthday cards stored inside cans of tin.

Then there was the shoe box and she knew what was inside,
And then she pulled the foot stool over and just sat and cried.
They had sat and gone through it a while one summer morn,
Letters they had sent each other withered now and torn.

But she noticed something she had never seen before,
And she knew it wasn't something brought back from the war.
It was not that old at all, it almost looked brand new,
A velvet box completely covered in a royal blue.

She wondered when he got that box and what it held inside,
He must have done it recently not long before he died.
With shaking hands she picked it up, not knowing what to do,
And then she saw a name tag saying "Sweetheart it's for you."

She sat there for a moment holding her new found surprise,
And could not help but feel more tears start flowing from her eyes.
She slowly took the lid off as she wiped away a tear,
And saw an envelope that said "Please read if I'm not here"

She sat there almost motionless as if she had been smitten,
And then she slowly opened it to see what he had written.
My precious, precious loving wife is how it did begin,
I have to be the luckiest of all the other men.

To have a wife so precious who means all the world to me,
I had to be more fortunate than any man could be.
The love that you have given me made for a happy life,
But you mean so much more to me, much more than just a wife.

When I would have depression that I thought would never end,
You would always be there as my closest, dearest friend.
When I had to make decisions and did not know how,
You would help me find the answer just being a pal.

When I had ideas and tried to get them all in order,
You would stand behind me as my number one supporter.
When I failed at something as I did once in a while,
You always showed me what went wrong, but did it with a smile.

As I write this letter and my time is drawing near,
I think it is the first time I have ever felt this fear.
It's not the fear of passing or departing from this life,
The fear is I will be alone without my loving wife.

So sweetheart as I face my fear of something that is new,
Please remember sweetheart that I'm so in love with you.
One day in the future we will meet up once again,
And once again share precious love as it has always been.

But for a little while I guess we have to separate,
One must always lead the way to destiny and fate.
But love like ours will last forever and it will endure,
And one day in the future we will meet again I'm sure.

She wiped away her tears again and forced a little smile,
Leaving her this velvet box and letter was his style.
She knew his words were true and one day no more keys or locks,
And she would cling to words he left inside this velvet box.

[ by James A. Kisner © 2002 (PoppyK1@aol.com) -- {used with permission} ]