The old man and his meal

He had lived a long and healthy life, his wife had been there with him all the time, they had been married for such a long time, coming up to 40 years now, such an achievement nowadays, what with the short lived marriages of the modern day, but i guess they are a remenant of the past, following the ways of the past as easy as kids nowadays seem to follow the ways of the present with no effort at all.

He had a favorite meal, and his wife had a special way of making it, only she seemed to get it just right. Every other day she made his meal, and when she knew she was going to be out she made his meal and popped it in the fridge for him, he could then heat it up in the microwave and enjoy his wifes talent whilst she wasn’t there. It was one of the reasons he was so happy to marry his wife, one reason upon many, she was such a good cook.

One night, his wife knew she was going out the next day, so she goes through the routine of preparing his meal, and popped it right in the fridge once it was ready, layer of cling film over the top. Then off to bed she went. Up to meet her husband like shes done so many times before.

The next day came and his wife went out, and he stayed at home and did a few household jobs that needed doing. When he first came to the fridge that day he noticed the meal waiting for him, he smiled a little. Around 3pm the phone rang, there had been an accident it seemed, a car accident, on the motorway. His wife had lost control in the rain, spinning the car, it was such a hard fast impact she had died very suddenly. Colour ran out of the old mans face, no one was there to see it, but it did, his face went so white. He sat down, almost fell down, his wife, his life, the car, the rain, a phone call, he couldnt think properly.

The funeral was quickly arranged, so quick, all so quick, he couldnt think properly. They had no children, it just never happened. They had a few friends, not very special friends, just people they would see now and then, and they helped with the funeral, he spent part of the evening with them, it was a tiring day, they departed. The old man went home, he was a little bit drunk, but it wasnt a fun drunk, for most of it he still felt sober, a cold sharp sober, that no amount of alcohol could break. When he got home he opened the fridge and saw the meal, he had forgotten about it, it was the last meal she had made, and the last she would ever make, she was dead now. Once it was eaten that was it, in a way it would signify the very end of the relationship, as for many of the years the meal had been part of the way the relationship worked. Could he face eating this last meal? Could he face life without this meal? Without his beloved wife? His wife had meant so much to him, helped his life, his wife helped his life. His wife, his life, the meal, all changed, all gone.

He could save the meal, for 2 or 3 more days, then it would be spoilt the taste no longer like the taste his wife would make it taste like. The sooner he ate it the more it would taste like his wife made it taste. If he ate it, it was over, his wife and the meal no more. The day had been long, long and hard, he was tired, he decided to sleep as it was hard to decide anything else, he slept, and dreamt, dreamt of the meal, of his wife, of the rain and the car.

When he awoke, his wife wasn’t there, all that was left was the meal, and he knew that was there. He was hungry and decided that his life is going on, his wife is dead, but he is not, he will eat the meal before it doesnt taste the way she made it taste. He went downstairs, right to the fridge and took out the meal and popped it in the microwave. and pushed, high power, 2 minutes. Ping! open the door, take it out, sit down, take a deep breath and start his new life with no wife and no more meal, this is the last one. Halfway through the meal whilst chewing on a piece of meat roll, a bit that isnt food? its paper!? He takes it out, its a note! he read it surprised.

“You bitter boring bastard, all these years making this fucking meal, i never forgave you, 20 years ago you had an affair, you thought i didnt know and I did. Well im leaving you, tommorow im taking the car and im not coming back. This will certainly be your last meal from me, your last god damn meal that i always hated cooking!”

What a small thing making the meal was eh? To him it was love, to her it was hate. Theres a lesson to be learned by us all in there now isnt there. Take care people, sleep tight.