It’s raining now.

I have my umbrella open to protect my dark hair and skin as well as my dress. I’m in a cemetery, looking down at one particular tombstone.

Here lies my husband and best friend. His death is recent and I find myself paying him a visit every day. As my shoes are splattered a little by the falling drops, I find myself reminiscent. It was a bright and sunny day when we met. Not a cloud in the sky. The orange mango blossoms gave a splash of liveliness and colour to the green foliage. Just as he brightened my day. He made me laugh like never before. But I never knew he’d make me love him so.

Proposal. There was a rainbow in the sky then. The leaves glistened with the moisture of recent rain as happy tears trailed down my face. Yes, yes! That’s all I had the words to say. I gave quiet praises to the Almighty for blessing me with him. This man was the one I’d spend my life with.

We spent a few generally sunny months together. My life had never been so joyous. As we grew closer, I loved him more and more each day. Never once did I regret being his wife.

Then, the storms came. They were sudden and unwanted, preventing the light of the sun from penetrating and keeping its warmth from me. He was gone. In a flash, he was no longer with me and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. A stray bullet, they said. Why couldn’t it have been me?

Perhaps the tears will never fully stop and the clouds never completely leave. He’d been the light of my life and now he’s gone.

But there is always hope. Life goes on. And he’d never want me to waste away before his tombstone. Being saddened by the loss is natural. But I’m glad for the time I got to spend with him and would trade it for nothing.

God had chosen to free him from the troubles of this world. And I trust Him completely. So I now hold on to this hope: I will see him again.

It is still raining, but only gently so. And as I turn my back to my husband, I know that the sun will shine again.

One day. Soon.