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Ready, Set, Go into the Light

Rainy Lopez

    He is ready to go, I’m not. He has been ready for years. I have been dreading it.
    “It’s time to go,” my husband says.
    “I’m not going,” I reply.
    Even if my heart no longer beats, and even if my blood no longer rushes to my cheeks, I am not ready. Death suits me, and it suits Hubert. He died a few months ago. I found him on the couch stiffened and cold to the touch. He had a smile on his face. Passed in his sleep the lucky bastard. It wasn’t such a graceful death for me, I had a heart attack, on the toilet. Not that my family will ever know, I managed to get myself onto the bedroom floor. My kids found me naked as the day I was born, they joked that they wished I had died in pajamas. But I am – sorry, I was old enough that I should be allowed to be bare-assed in my own bedroom!
    “Martha, it’s time,” he says.
    “I am not ready,” I state.
    He looks down at me, his eyes milky and white, his mouth curled downward into a frown dripping off him and into my brain. The wrinkles on his face protrude out as he glares at me in disappointment. I used to worry that I wouldn’t find him attractive as we aged, especially since he was such an attractive young man, but he is more handsome now than the day we met. He took his hands into mine and traced his finger along my wedding ring. It cost months of extra shifts and mowing lawns for him to get me this ring.
    “I’m sorry, my love,” I began, “I want to stay. I want to watch our grandchildren grow up, here in this home we built together.”
    I put his hand over my own heart. He sits back in his chair and lets out a heavy sigh.
    “Do you really want to stay here just to haunt them?” he asks. “We are ghosts, Martha!”
    “We aren’t ghosts; we are just... spirits...” I say.
    “Are you scared?” he asks.
    I sit down in my chair and a light wind escapes the leather cutting the tension with a loud thpppppt. He lets a grin cross his face, before remembering to grimace.
    “Are you scared?” he asks again.
    I stare forward at the pictures lining the wall. Family photos; pictures of holidays and graduations.
    “You’re damn right I’m scared,” I say. “I will admit it, I am a coward. I am afraid of all that we will miss out on if we go too soon.”
    “My love, all that you’ll miss out on if you don’t go now is our life together. You’ll be with them, but you won’t be with me,” he says.
    I shut my eyes and wish so deeply to picture a future, us finding each other again, falling in love, and starting another family. Another family.
    “I always want to be with you,” I say. “But I need to be with my children.”
     The words taste sour as they leave my lips. I open my eyes and search for him to understand. He looks away. Heartbroken or ashamed, I cannot tell.
    “You are a coward,” he says.
    I shut my eyes again, I do not wish to see his face as he crushes my heart.
    “We did a respectable job raising those kids, and they are doing an even better job raising their kids. They don’t need us anymore,” he says. “But I do need you.”
    He leans in and puts his forehead to mine. I push my skin to his, but I dare not open my eyes.
    “I am scared too, that does not mean that we can’t be courageous,” he says. “Come with me. We can be scared together; we can move on together.”
    “And how do you know that we’ll even find each other?” I ask.
    “Because soul mates find each other in every lifetime.” he says.
     I spin the wedding ring on my finger, each twist reminding me that even cowards can be courageous. I stand from my chair and remove my ring.
    “In the next life,” I say. “We will find one another, but I cannot leave yet.”
    “That’s all right, my darling. I will search for you,” he says.
    He stands up and gives me one final kiss before disappearing behind the veil.

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