A Cry From a Broken Heart

A broken heart can happen to anyone at any age. Mine came just when our lives were poised to turn another page. Twenty years of love and marriage with three children almost grown. We were looking forward to a life with the two of us alone. We had planned a short vacation without a single child in tow. Though invited they had plans with friends and didn’t want to go. We would celebrate the 4th with them and my birthday seven-seven. Our July anniversary was coming, anticipation was a given. The morning of July 4th he brought my coffee to my bed. I was off to work for a few hours. “Hurry home,” was all he said. I was finishing up the bookwork, without a single worry. The phone rang. I thought it would be he, just urging me to hurry. His friend had made the phone call and he wouldn’t tell me why. He said I must come to the hospital, hung up the phone without goodbye. A doctor was waiting for me to tell me my love was dead. My head spun and I fainted without hearing all he said. I don’t know why God took him just before our holiday or why my love was buried on my forty-fourth birthday. A lifetime of loving dreams condensed to brief report in this short rhyme. That’s how I know a broken heart can come at any age or time.