Love's Sacrifice

by Brittaney Ellis about a year ago in love

A Short Story About the Power of Love

Love's Sacrifice

The day that Mary's husband died was the hardest day of her life. Although he wasn't perfect, Tim had always been the light of her life, and she didn't know what she was going to do without him.

Tim died on a Tuesday. She was at work when she got the call. All she really remembered from that day was waking up and saying goodbye to Tim as he walked out the door. Everything after that was foggy.

She held the funeral on Saturday. She had him cremated. She buried the ashes under the oak tree in the backyard. Then she could talk to the tree and he could hear her. At least that's what she told herself.

As the pastor said a blessing over his ashes in the yard it started to rain. The pastor quickly finished and everyone went inside, except Mary.

She knelt down, bent over, and placed her forehead against the ground. She began to sob. She sobbed from the deepest part of her soul. She'd give anything to have him back.

That night Mary could barely sleep. She tossed and turned until the sun started coming up. She climbed out of bed, put on her robe, and went to the window.

The old oak tree looked a lot greener then usual. The bark even seemed to be a darker brown. She decided to go down, to get a closer look and to say good morning to Tim.

Mary made some coffee and headed out the back door. She sat down on the ground next to the tree. It definitely looked much healthier than it did yesterday. Maybe the rain had done it some good.

Mary sat leaning on the tree most of the morning. She didn't have to go back to work for two weeks and this is where she planned to spend it.

She sat there, drinking her coffee, reading the paper, when she suddenly felt cold. Super cold. The clouds hid the sun she had been basking in and the air seemed to stop moving.

Suddenly, she heard Tim's voice.

"Hello beautiful."

Mary gasped. The tree was talking to her and it sounded just like Tim.

"Tim? Is that you?"

"It is, but I'm not sure how."

"I don't care," Mary said. "It's just good to hear your voice."

Mary sat under the tree and her and Tim talked all day. It was almost like they were dating again. They talked into the night until Mary fell asleep. Neither one of them gave a second thought about how this could possibly be happening.

The next morning, Mary woke up and said good morning to Tim, but he didn't answer her. The only noise the tree made was the leave rustling in the breeze.

Mary's heart sank. Was he gone? Was that all she got? She was glad she got it, but she desperately wanted more. She knelt down and sobbed, kissing the ground where Tim was as she did.

She still planned to spend her two weeks under the tree so she got up and went to make a cup of coffee. While she was inside, she showered and changed. She felt a little better as she walked back out the back door.

Tim's voice came from the tree again.

"Hi," he said

Mary leapt.

"You're back!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, I think it's your tears that bring me back. They seem to give my soul new life."

"Whatever it is, I'm glad it's happening," Mary said.

Little did Tim or Mary know that it wasn't her tears that brought him back. Every time Mary cried for him, a small piece of her soul was given to him, for she loved him that much. She was literally pouring her soul into him.

Mary began to realize what was happening, but couldn't bare to let him go, so she kept crying for him. He made her happy even if happiness would be the death of her.

Mary continued to cry for Tim every night, and every morning he would come back to her. It didn't take long for it to take its toll on her. Soon she was nothing more then a skeleton of the woman she once was. Her body was frail and weak.

Tim had realized too late the sacrifice she was making just to keep him alive. Finally, Mary had no more left to give. Her family found her curled up under the oak tree. She had passed in the night while talking to Tim. Tim disappeared shortly after, but with his last breath he sobbed for her.

Brittaney Ellis
Brittaney Ellis
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Brittaney Ellis

Writing allows my mind to wander free.....

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