A Cry from the Heart

With a black well done dress, a little above the knees, Rose enters the very clean room all decorated in blue where she sees her husband. Her swollen eyelids and dark eye circles say she has been crying for hours. She takes a deep breath as if the air could give her some strength. By the window glass, she looks outside while rubbing her cold hands to warm them. Without knowing what to do, she keeps standing on her feet. The woman firmly fixes her eyes on him and speaks in a breath:

I know you don’t like to compare feelings, but I need to tell you that you have been the most relevant man in my life. Your path was one, mine another until we met. You have made a difference in my days and I will never forget that. I Love you, I love you so much, and I must say I have never said this to you interested in listening it back. I say it because I really mean it. I love you too much and I think I won’t be able to live without you. I know, I know. You hate when I put some hair behind the ear. You don’t like so many things. You also hate excessive love demonstrations. You have never allowed me to compare you to my father or to Orlando, but it was inevitable. They were the men I met before you. How many times I woke up scared in the middle of the night? How many dark thoughts made me lose my sleep? On these occasions I listened to your snore and smiled. Your snore was the conviction the sorrowful times were over. I was not alone anymore. I could fall. I could! And If I fell you would be there to raise me up. How many times I said “I love you”, in a low voice during those vigil moments? How many? At times I used to think of my father’s behavior, in the few years he lived with my mother.
I used to recall my father’s words, actions and reactions and I wonder if you would be able to act the same way. Of course not! You know, I am absolutely certain that you would never wet in front of your children like my father used to do. Completely naked, he would walk around the house with mad eyes holding a chamber potty below his waist. You...ah you always so virtuous, polite and respectful… You, I know. You would never do that. Walking naked, pee or whatever of this sort in front of your children is not of your nature. How many times did I say I loved you in the weirdest hours and situations? I say I love you all the time, don’t I? On the other hand, you have never said this to me, not even a “So do I”. In any moment in our lives, romantic trips, fancy dinners, only you and me, I have never listened to these words. I know you love me, though. You love me so much. What else would keep you by my side if it was not a very strong feeling? Me, my strong character, bully temper, all my kinks and my lovely cats and dogs? You know, my dad and Orlando were always saying they loved me every single time. I always wanted to tell you this. Silly, huh? Hypocrite. These three words were always watered by a crying moaning which did not deceive me. My father, after months of absence used to repeat these empty words behind a tears waterfall. What about my husband, then? A house with all one needs for another woman, a parallel life, kids… This man used to say he loved me all the time, although he never wanted sex with me…
I donÂ’t want to talk about them anymore. I donÂ’t mind about them. You, you are a wonderful husband, a marvelous man. Never doubt that. You are a little strict sometimes. But you are a no comparison human being; you are someone I can count on.
A dignified parent who has always had in mind to do the best, if you have done right or not, I donÂ’t know, it doesnÂ’t matter now. ItÂ’s a pity you are not the father of my children. ItÂ’s a pity we didnÂ’t meet beforeÂ… when we were young. We could haveÂ…

A small knock on the door interrupts her; she turns around in shock although she was expecting that:

- Madam, I am deeply sorry, but we have to follow the time. – The woman hides her face in her shaking hands and starts crying again. - We have to give continuity to the funeral ceremony.