Snatched

He took another look at the headstone

With the red roses stuck in the top of it,

The rest were saved for the vase at home

As had become his monthly habit.

On this particular day of every month

He had gone through this very rite

Of placing flowers in the top of the stone

Right here on his wife’s burial site.

After five years the memory was still fresh

Almost as though it were yesterday

And at her grave he would stop to think

About that day that she had slipped away.

That morning was just like any other

When she had dutifully put his breakfast

And in her cheery voice had called to him

To partake in what was to be their last.

This was their rite each and every day

Before they would head off to work

And to think she was taken so suddenly

Still filled him with a lot of hurt.

Not even a chance to say goodbye

And snatched without a parting kiss

Trapped in the wreck that was her car…

Why should it have happened like this?

 

That phone call was etched in his mind

It was the worst thing he had ever heard

“Your wife has had a terrible accident”

How hard it was to accept this word!

Leaving his workplace he drove to the site

And what he saw he could not but reject

That the car he gave her on her last birthday

Was one and the same as this awful wreck.

He thought to himself this must be a dream

As he viewed the scene through a mist

But suddenly he realized it was reality

As the warmth of a tear touched his wrist.

  

For him she was the entirety of his life

She was a most beautiful and adoring wife

And her sudden and unannounced departure

Still cut through him like a knife.

And so as he commemorates her memory

With this accustomed visit to her grave

Each rose reminds him of what could have been

And yet challenges him to be brave.

At the breakfast table he will remember

As he places the remainder in the vase

Of that very last breakfast spent together

And this far-away-look now evident in his gaze.

Snatched as it were in a minute

Snatched without warning or fanfare

Snatched from a life of promise and hope

Leaving one in hopeless despair.

This is a stark reminder of life’s brevity

And thus the need to daily dispatch

Our affection and sentiments to our loved ones

Before they are suddenly snatched.

Stewart Russell © 2016