The Letters

Before Barry left this world, he went through his things and threw a lot of stuff out. Why? Did he want to save me the trouble? Did he dislike the thought of his family rummaging through his things? We will never know.

We do know that he chose carefully how he would go about his job. To anyone who walked into his room, nothing was amiss. Nothing had changed. But if that person delved deeper, and opened a drawer, they (meaning us; meaning me) would more than likely find the drawer empty. Obviously, I never went through his drawers, because I had no idea what he had done and what he was planning. I respected his privacy.

The few drawers with something left inside were few – his underwear and socks; some magazine pictures of his ideals Arnold Schwarzenegger, Johnny Depp and Jennifer Love Hewitt (from his younger days); a pencil case and some lolly wrappers (which I haven’t been able to throw away), and a few other small items.

All the important items, apart from the things I had in a folder kept elsewhere and the things on show in his bedroom, had been trashed.

When he went to England with his dad, Barry and I exchanged a few letters. As it happened, a few months prior to Barry’s death, I came across the letters Barry had written to me. I remember telling Barry about them. He seemed surprised that I had kept them and asked if he could see them.

He never gave them back, but I wasn’t concerned. Not then, because I didn’t know what was going on in his head and what would soon happen .

Three months later, Barry was gone and so was most of the things in his room. I remembered the letters and got upset because I no longer had those personal words he had written just for me.

A month after losing Barry, while searching my room for something else, I found a strange envelope. I had never seen the envelope before. Upon opening it, I found four letters inside – the two I had sent to Barry and the two he had sent to me all those years ago when he was in England.

Barry had known I would treasure those letters forever. I had already proven myself in that regard. Just as he proved to me he cared, because he also had kept my letters, even though he didn’t tell me at the time.

Barry was careful in his planning, he was good at keeping secrets, and he broke my heart with his actions, but he showed me that he cared enough to not throw away those letters when he placed them somewhere he knew I’d find them when the time was right. I’ll be forever grateful for that.

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2 thoughts on “The Letters

  1. Karen, I was so glad to read this–it’s not even so much having the letters themselves, as knowing that Barry thought of you and knew you would appreciate having them. You wrote long ago that it hurt that he didn’t leave you a note, but perhaps knowing that he took this simple action relieves that hurt a little.

  2. It does, Sherry. Strangely, it’s only recently that I’ve appreciated this action of Barry’s. Before I was too caught up in missing him to realise what he had done for me. Yes, this one thing took some of that hurt away.

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