She looked out
her kitchen window with tears of love falling down her cheeks, she was remembering him and how
he would sing to her. In the morning he would sing her a song, his beautiful
voice burning into her heart with each note. He sang from deep within himself
his voice, his words piercing her soul.
She carried that song with her throughout that day and all yet to come. When
she was unhappy for some reason he would sing her an uplifting song, taking her
hand and dancing with her as his beautiful voice filled the house with happiness.
She never
knew when he would break into song as sometimes he would in the strangest
places, like the grocery store where he would start singing songs from old
records he so dearly loved.
People would stop and listen showing their appreciation with applause which he
ate up with a smile as big as his voice. As age caught up with them he
continued to sing to her sometimes not remembering every word, but she did as
she had listened to all of them for so many years. Theirs was a happy marriage,
a happy life, it was a life of song and expression from a quiet man with a
soothing voice that she would miss so very much. As she looked out her kitchen
window she saw him standing there in his Sunday suit holding a bunch of
wildflowers softly singing to her and she smiled a little smile softly humming
the melody of true love.
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