George and Ellen

“George and Ellen”

Ellen looked at the reflection of the tired and sad old woman, but George only saw the woman that he loved. She starred at herself for awhile. A bobby pin sat in between her lips while she put up her hair for the night. She reached into the top drawer on the left side of the counter and pulled out a container of wipes that were used to take off make-up. She still wore it; it did not help anything, at least she believed that. George looked down from behind her. She looked beautiful with or without make-up, he thought, but she was in such a habit of fixing herself up; she could not let everything in her life die.
George felt sad for Ellen, she had endured so much in her life. Everything always seemed to happen to her. George knew that he was lucky for most of his life, except for that one heart attack he had had a little less than a year ago, George was always so healthy and active. Nothing slowed him down. Ellen, on the other hand, had had everything old-age can grant. There was breast cancer when she turned sixty-two, a stroke last year, and osteoporosis had claimed her hip, three ribs, and her wrist---twice. “You better keep up your strength,” she had told George, “you will have a lot to learn about the house once I’m gone.” She joked a few times with George, but he did not like it, he worried about her health.
She rubbed the final bit of make-up from her eyes and threw the dirty wipe in the trash. She looked into the mirror. “I don’t have anything left to do.” She told her reflection. “Why am I still her?” George gave her a sympathetic smile while she placed the container of wipes back into the open drawer and closed it. She looked back up at herself and starred long and hard. Then the tears that had been hiding behind her eyes showed themselves. She put her hand up to her face and wiped away the trails on her checks. George bent over and kissed the top of her head. She shivered a little when his lips touched her head, then closed her eyes and two more tears ran down her face dripping off her chin. They landed in the sink and made their way down the drain to find the rest of the tears she had cried over the year.
“Oh George, why? Why did you have to leave me?” She asked.
George put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m here Sweetheart,” he said, “and I will see you in the morning.” He smiled, then slowly vanished, leaving Ellen finishing getting ready for bed.