Life had changed for me. I never acknowledged it. Moonlight walk changed into late night system workshops. Candlelight supper transformed into conferences. Sweet and short telephone calls from her changed into long hour video chats. Endowments were no more need now — there ought to be some substantial return whatever we contribute, all things considered. Spending even 5 dollars on the bundle for the Valentine’s Day appeared to be good for nothing — you would lose at any rate thirty minutes hunting down a parking spot in the downtown.
In general there was no rest from the furious office and the future arranging. At whatever point she, in an extremely mellow endeavor, attempted to express her sentiments, I had pre-characterized answer, “these all are for us just, dear” and she used to be calm for one more month or something like that.
As of late I needed to go to Holland on a business trip for a week. I was dealing with a vital task. I didn’t have even five minutes to converse with my folks who voyaged more than fifteen hundred miles just to meet us. I called her to advise that I needed to leave that night. It was not unfamiliar to her. It happened ordinarily, and inevitably, in night, I discovered her remaining at the entryway, grinning, with my bag pressed with all the fundamental stuffs.
I registered with Crown Inn in Eindhoven. It was 3 PM. I needed to practice my presentation before I meet the senior administration. I was certain that she would have kept the document. In past, she never missed what I required, never at any point. In any case, I couldn’t control my outrage. I opened my calfskin cased Samsonite and record was not there!!! I took out or rather tossed fabrics one by one on the comfortable floor of Crown Inn.
“Here it is” phewwww… what a help.” I moaned. I knew she never missed even my moment taste and ceaseless insignificant requests. Furthermore, for this imperative record, I had particularly reminded her.
I opened the record. There was a pink encompass, something like what we used to trade, long time back, before our marriage. Those days, loves were not made on the Internet. It had been over twelve years.
I opened the envelope. It had our family photograph, with her and our two minimal ones. We as a whole were grinning. There was a pink welcome card with a red heart imprinted on it. Inside the card, it read, “Miss you my dear Teddy Bear.”
When I was returning, at the Schiphol air terminal, after numerous years I acquired something for her… only for her… a couple of jewel hoops. I was feeling the loss of her seriously, as at no other time.