Dating : The Card

Penelope loved to give beautiful greeting cards, and wanted always to be prepared for that last-minute heading-out-the-door moment when we forgot to buy a card for a special event. So she bought several at a time, during visits to gift shops and stationery stores, to have them on hand for birthdays, anniversaries, sympathy occasions. These were stored in shoe boxes and desk drawers around the house, to be picked through as needed. Of course Mother’s Day and Father’s Day were also occasions for greeting cards, but Penny and I always bought those for each other specially for each year. In this year, however, after Penny began taking narcotic pain medication in April for her cancerl, she never drove again, so I had no expectation that there would be a Father’s Day card from her in June. And there was not.

But then, following her death, something wonderful and extraordinary happened. Penny had the sometimes-frustrating habit of hiding her favorite jewelry pieces after each time she wore them. They might be dropped in a vase, or placed on a high shelf… or, sometimes, in the toe of a shoe in her closet. Oftentimes she scoured for an hour, trying to remember where she had last secreted her rings and bracelets. Shortly after she died in August it occurred to me that I hadn’t the slightest idea where she had last hidden the pieces she loved so much. I looked in all the usual places, to no avail. Then I began a systematic search of her dozens of shoes. Over time, one by one, the jewelry magically appeared, usually in a shoe that I positively had previously checked. I smiled at the fun she was having with me. Finally, after at least three top-to-bottom searches of her shoe cabinet, all had been located. But as I scanned the shelves one last time, something caught my eye, centered in the middle shelf, standing on edge between two shoes. It was a card, a beautiful card, still wrapped in an unopened cellophane sleeve. It was a Father’s Day card. It had a small red gemstone heart attached on the front and a red ribbon tied along the fold. I sat down on our bed to read it. It said:

To My Husband

Together we’ve made plans, created a family,

laughed and cried, worked and played,

and made many of our dreams

a wonderful reality

All of my deepest joys come from

the many things we share.

You are everything I want

In a husband, partner and best friend.

Happy Father’s Day

with all my love.

I have no idea when she bought it, how it came to be where I found it, or, most mysteriously, how I had not found it in my multiple exploration of the shoes in that cabinet. But this I know: it was the message she wanted to leave for me.