Fallen Fork's a Visitor

Fallen Fork's a Visitor

She held her metal fork in her hands, night of November 1. It was steady and firm, but at the verge of an intentional fall; a longing call for a lost lover, she can only wish to be home. "Didn't he leave you a long time ago, Rosita?" A plea from a woman at the side of the table. It was rhetorical. A question that has an answer of either the piercing truth or placed under the comfort of denial. Rosita's eyes searched for a shadow of a man she loved at the door. "He'll be back, he always comes back." Her grip of the fork was losing the energy to be still, and her hands started to shake like a shiver in the cold. It was just right until it fell with a triple clang on the floor. The striking press of a fallen metal fork wrung Rosita in shock but with hopeful eyes, she felt strongly that his man will come.

"Rosita, it's time we close the door." They went to the ears of the deaf. One more time, "Rosita, it's past your bedtime. You've waited enough."

However, she knew that waiting for the man of her dreams will never be too long, never too easy but it was painful. It was painful to wait for someone when there's no certainty of the love coming back. With all the love Rosita was willing to give, she can only spend a quarter of it, waiting and wanting for her love to come by the door; greet him the best smiles, play a history of happiness, and a premonition of a fulfilling life with him. Time never changes its tempo but the quiet night was slow. Rosita made a grave for his lost lover, so deep, from all the useless waiting for him every night. Rosita knew that his man needed to rest peacefully in her ageing mind some time - no matter how much she longed for him. And maybe his long dead body and soul will live each time she had bouts of remembering. Rosita has the disease that meant forgetting her memories one at a time; little by little until she can no longer remember herself. Alzheimer's disease. She forgets something new as time passed, but what the mind keeps forgetting, can be remembered by the heart. Although Rosita's memory fades, the memory of her beloved stays like it was the first time they met. Rosita, it's time to close the door. Rosita, it's past your time. You've waited enough. And with her last quiet human breath, she closed her eyes the last time alive, her heart stopped beating. So as she opened them again, at her sight was the man he waited for years to come home. "Welcome home." Said Rosita's long lost love. "Thank you for remembering me." (Fallen utensils mean expected visitors, Philippine Superstitions)