Sometimes there’s a moment in life when you know something is utterly wrong, that your life as you have known it might become something other,something alien.This happened to me in late February 2014 when I took my husband to buy some shoes.
For it seemed he had given away all of his shoes but one pair.It might seem obvious to a practical dreamer like myself that in the winter a man needs two pairs of shoes,in case snow or rain attacks one pair.But he knew better than I did what he really needed
He never explained.He was really a very quiet man but at the same time an extravert affectionate person.He didn’t share my need to help or amuse others by explaining why I had done something.That .was one big difference between us.The bigger one was that he was a man and I am a woman,
The shoe shop was crowded but we had no plans to go anywhere else.Then I felt sick.He eventually found a pair he liked;he rejected my suggestion he should get two pairs which turned out to be a wise decision though I had no way of knowing it on that day.I was like an animal that smells a new scent in the air and has no idea whether to run or to get closer
When we got home I knew:something is going to happen but to which of us?And when? And now I know a I sit here with the deep but almost invisible,indecipherable scar on my Viking face looking at the mantel shelf where 60 or 70 letters and cards of condolence stand,I know that it was to both of us but I am the one left behind; the one who arranged the music for the funeral;the one who answered the letters .And I am the one who saw death enter,a black shape moving like a dancer across the threshold behind the bold woman who took our lives and tore them apart.As if she were under orders.As if there were no choice.