Thursday, April 10, 2014

“I” is for I Will: A Long Story Shortened (Fiction)

II Will

Who knows how long I’ve loved you, you know I always will.

Shall I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to, I will.

For if I ever met you, I didn’t catch your name;

But it never really mattered, I will love you still the same.

Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart;

love you whenever we’re together; love you when we’re apart.

And when at last I find you, your song will fill the air;

Sing it loud so I can hear you. Make it easy to be near you.

For the things you do endear you to me, Oh you know, I will. I will.

(Lennon, McCartney; permission pending.)

The regular members of the grief support group watched on in silence as the frail old woman hobbled to the podium. Although it was obvious from the vast network of wrinkles lining her face that she couldn’t possibly be a day under 85, the thick, curly, snow-white waist-length ponytail and bright blue eyes lent a certain vestige of youthfulness to the woman’s appearance. After tentatively reaching out to adjust the mike, she dabbed at a tear that threatened to stray down her wizened cheek.

“Hello, my name is Melody McDonald and I’m here because a friend of mine suggested that I come and share my story with you. It’s a very long story, but I will try to keep it short; time is running out, and the story needs to be told.

“I’d always thought that the term «falling in love» was odd, because I’d always envisioned it as a raising of the spirit, an enlightenment of the heart. And so it was rather ironic that day at the airport; I wasn’t paying much attention where I was going as I walked towards the customs area. The loudspeaker must not have been working very well, and I was straining to hear the sweet melody with the slightly Irish lilt to it when I ran right into a very tall man with the most delicious twinkly blue eyes. I fell at his feet, as he did mine, and when he offered his hand to help me back to my feet, I KNEW I had fallen in love. And, do you know what? So had he.

“Shortly thereafter, he moved into my apartment. Never had I been so happy as I was in the time we were together; we were so much alike in so many things. Can you believe that in the five years we were together I could count the times we quarreled on one hand? It’s true! We loved the same music, our political views were the same and, quite ironically, we even had the same degree in the same subject.

“And he was so sweet. He’d come in while I was working at my desk and just come over and give me a hug, then stay for a bit of conversation. He loved to talk, and talk, and talk… And when we watched TV in the evening, we often had no idea what was going on because of the stimulating conversation. Boring? Never! Conversation interspersed with music: unbeatable!

“And then…he died. He just left: one moment he was there and the next, he wasn’t. Only five years instead of the lifetime I had envisioned, with the two of us growing old together. I was sixty-one, and that was thirty-eight years ago.” The old one woman stifled a sob before continuing, “At times, the pain of his loss is unbearable; I try to put on a brave face, but I miss him…” She stopped as the sweet strains of a lilting, Irish sounding melody filled the air. The people rushing to the podium stopped abruptly as Ms. McDonald fell at the feet of a tall, slim man with twinkly blue eyes.


© “I” is for I Will, a Long Story Shortened, 2014 Mary Purpari


  1. This is so full of sweetness, Mary. Better to have loved and lost, than to have not experienced love like this, is what I'm thinking.

    1. On the whole, I agree, because a love like that can only help a person become better than they were, and a love like that is eternal. There's only one problem with a love like that: when the couple is separated briefly or for a long time, the surviving member feels the loss even deeper...
      Thank you for commenting, Corinne. I was hoping for more, because I was thinking of expanding it somewhat if people liked it. I guess I won't...

  2. Being in love is something not easily explained. Being out of love on good or bad terms tended to be adversely received unless on account of demise of one. Then the feelings are enhanced and lingers on for a long time. Wonderful love poem Mary!


  3. Thank you. The poem was an Old Beatles song, but I'm glad you enjoyed the story. And yes, the feeling, if true love, will linger on forever.

  4. Such a bittersweet love story, Mary! Brought a tear to my eye; especially when he died. Hopefully, the old woman will remember the good times they had together and smile instead of cry. ♥

  5. She'll probably do both. She does now in her "youth". I'm glad you like it.

  6. what an Intriguing story for the letter I :) I wonder how this would be as a much longer piece? so many things to explore in the lives of two young lovers torn apart by death and grief.

  7. Yes, it should be interesting. I've been dabbling with it for quite some time, and think I will write it eventually. It needs to get in line, though, behind two other books I've already started. time is sooooo of the essence.


I would really love to read your thoughts, so leave a comment so we can all converse. Thanks.