Letters to random people I remember at random times: #1

It was a forbidden encounter.

I wasn’t supposed to be taking care of your wing anyway, but no one was paying attention to you, no visitors.

“Oh don’t even try, she had a stroke so she can’t talk,” but I knew, I just knew, you still had so much life to live.

So I’d scarf down my lunch early and I’d head over to where you were, and I’d pull out the creaky chair next to you. Your hand in mind- sometimes it was warm and sometimes it was cold- and we would watch Wheel of Fortune.

Whatever the fuck that was, I mean, it’s not even fair that we were watching people spin fortune for money when you were here feeling like your wheel was spun for death, is it going to be today or not today.

Some days you were hurting, and some days you were energetic. But you always bowed your head in thanksgiving, and I always smiled back.

The last day I was there, I went over to your room, and I held your hand for the last time.

It’s my last day, I told you.

“Thank you,” you spoke back to me and it was the first time I had ever heard your voice.

I knew you had a beautiful voice, I only needed to look into your eyes to know.

I gave one last squeeze, take care, and I knew it would be the last time I’d see you.

I don’t know if you are still on this earth now. If you are, I hope you have someone else to watch Wheel of Fortune with.

But your memories live with me. Perhaps it wasn’t your wheel of fortune spinning for death, it was mine spinning for life, to keep you alive in my memories, every single day.

It hits jackpot every time.