On the deserted north side of the beach that we claimed as ours, we giggled and snuggled closer under the green army blanket. As night fell and breezes gently pushed the waves closer to shore, we playfully stole kisses until we fell into a long, mesmerizing kiss and embrace. The cool November air felt good on our faces and the sea sprays gently brushed over us.

Sipping hot coffee and sharing nibbles of a stale donut, we contemplated our future. He began to speak and I listened intently. He spoke of the house we would buy, 3 bedrooms, one of which could be turned into a study. There would be enough room when the kids came to visit, but our home would be predominately meant for us and our two dogs . Our kids were all grown and on their own. Further, the dogs need room to exercise and play, and so did Tim.

The area we chose to live was the best of both worlds. Nestled in farmland, surrounded by grass and trees, our 2-story home would be just a few minutes from the hustle and bustle of shops and town. I was a "city" girl and never liked the idea of living so far from the "beaten path". However, I would follow Tim to the ends of the earth. As the Bible says in the "Book Of Ruth", "wither thou goes, I shall go; wither thou lodges, I shall lodge". A house in the farmland was not only suddenly more than appealing but everything I ever wanted - as long as Tim was there.

A few weeks earlier, he answered a few employment ads in Virginia, which were quite promising. My job was stable and although we would never be rich, we would be able to live a comfortable life. "Now honey", Tim said sternly, "promise me the only times you'll make your famous cinnamon muffins, is when I go fishin'. I'll need them for an anchor and bait!" I bombarded him with playful smacks for that comment and we laughed and laughed as we rolled around on the cold sand.

We agreed that it would be a chore getting relatives and friends from up North to gather in Virginia for our wedding next Fall. This anticipated headache was minor. We laughed as we smugly said, "who cares if they don't come!". In all honesty, we really didn't care if everyone was there or not. Naturally, it would be wonderful for all our family and friends to share our beautiful day with us, but it would be equally as wonderful if it were just us and a minister. We loved each other and we wanted to be together, sharing the good and bad times of our lives. We were so compatible and, from the moment we met, we both felt there had never been a time that we didn’t know each other.

In a few months, this would all come to pass. We would have our special day – our moment in time. Tim would often say we had a fairy tale romance. Soon, we would live "happily ever-after", enjoying our glorious, long awaited life together. Our collective decades on this earth produced four failed marriages – two for each of us. I would joke and say, “This is our time, baby. Three’s the charm!”, while Tim would tenderly come back with, “Honey, God saved the best for last.”

We settled down a bit and again sat still for a few minutes listening and enjoying the enormous bounty of nature around us. He began talking about taking a cruise one day, garage sales, and driving cross country together just to see America. I found myself gazing into his brown eyes, hearing only short phrases here and there. I was totally consumed by my knight, my hero, the love of my life.

Every few minutes, he would pause, smile and wait for my response. Quickly collecting myself, I replied in kind. I gently ran my fingers through his hair. His eyes danced as he spoke and the moonlight on his face gave him the appearance of a man much younger than his 55 years. I nuzzled my face to his neck and the light scent of his Stetson cologne held me contently captive. I kiss his neck gently. As I rested my head on his shoulder, I could feel his embrace tighten around me. This was sheer paradise.

From the moment we met, I could feel myself, from deep in my soul, light up at the very mention of his name. To be in his company I beamed with an inner glow I had never experienced in my life. A surge, a rush, came over me at the very thought of him. Now, a tingle ran through me when he squeezed my hands as he spoke.

Hanging on his every word, yet only seeing him, I cupped his face in my hands and whispered, "I love you, Tim", and kissed his lips tenderly. He looked at me for a minute, then kissed me and held me tight to him. The sea air around us grew colder, the waves began to crash against the shore and the stars shinned bright against the black, moonlit sky. Yet, holding each other, immersed in total bliss, all we heard was the beating of our hearts and the warmth of our love that set us apart from creation.

Tim left for the long drive home to New York at 3AM Monday morning. This was not unusual since he was a trucker and accustomed to driving his rig in the early mornings. The sound of the alarm woke us from a deep slumber. As he got ready, I made breakfast - coffee and sweet rolls. We slowly walked toward the front door, arms wrapped around each other. Our kiss was long, warm and thrilling. I never wanted this kiss to end. "I love you, baby", he said, as he gently yet firmly pulled me closer to him. I looked in his eyes and said, "I love you too, honey. Please be careful….and call me when you get in!" Tim promised he would, kissed me quick once more and headed out. I watched Tim pull out of the driveway and we waved to each other. I went back up to our bed and slid under the covers, still feeling of his touch, his kiss, and knowing if I kept busy, the 5 days yet to pass, until we were together again, would go quickly.

As dawn broke through my bedroom window, I slowly woke up and rolled over. His after shave filled my senses as I hugged my pillow. "I love you, Tim", I heard myself murmur with a smile. A cool breeze encumbered me and lingered for a minute or so. I laid back and basked in the “feeling” of my love near me.

It was a little past 7AM when the phone rang and pierced the silence of the morning. I could hear commotion in the background as I answered the phone. A deep voice calmly spoke to me and jolted me from a dreamlike state to the present as he advised he was, Sgt. Winslow of the Delaware State Police. There had been an accident. A driver who either fell asleep at the wheel, or lost control of their vehicle in some manner, hit Tim’s car head on. The driver of the other car is on their way to the hospital in critical condition. I could hear Sgt. Winslow clear his throat as he told me that Tim didn't make it.

Stunned, in shock, I sat with the receiver in my hand unable to speak. I could hear the voice on the other end calling to me. This couldn’t be happening. No, not Tim! He can’t be gone! The voice in my head grew louder and louder until the only thing I could scream was “NO!” at the top of my lungs. Still clutching the receiver, I fell over in a heap, unable to say anything, unable to breathe, yet I could hear myself crying, screaming, and sobbing uncontrollably. Again and again, excruciating pain soared through my body, and crashed my soul, as my heart imploded like a piece of fine crystal. Each time, the pain grew more intense for reality was in full emergence.

At some point, I managed to call my girlfriend, Jess, and she rushed to help me. Jess called the Delaware authorities and got all the information needed to get me to Tim’s side. Within an hour, we were on our way to Delaware. Jess drove and I huddled in the fetal position unable to control the sobbing. I felt the caress of a cool breeze on my face. I asked Jess to roll up the windows and turn on the heat. “They are rolled up”, she said, “and the heat is on, honey.”

As Jess parked the car and turned off the engine, my seat belt was off and I dashed out of the car. As Jess followed in quick pursuit, my heart pounded as I rushed toward the “Emergency” sign and through the huge doors, that electronically opened, at my silent command. My eyes widened, I was shaking but, suddenly, I could not speak. Jess took charge and we were instructed to take the elevator to the basement – to the morgue.

We were met by attendants and escorted to a waiting room. It was cold, sterile and antiseptic. Within a few minutes, a picture appeared on the monitor, which sat on a shelf in the middle of the room. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

As they lifted back the sheet, I saw Tim. His handsome face was cut and bruised. He was cleaned up a bit although blood still clung to his light hair. He appeared to be sleeping. "No, this can’t be," I matter-of-factly told Jess, the officer and the attendants, “He can’t be …he just can’t be…”. I could not bring myself to say the word, “dead”. I knew full well that it was Tim lying on that table and that he had indeed passed over. Tears flowed uncontrollably from my eyes and I bellowed scream after scream. I made my way to the door to rush to him when I was halted in mid-air by huge arms. The doctor in charge gave me a sedative. When we left the hospital, Jess and I checked into the local Holiday Inn. Tomorrow, we would escort Tim to New York, nearing the final leg of this journey, to be with Tim’s family, and, to lay my love to rest.

The last thing I remember saying to Jess before the sedative hit full force was an abundance of “thank you” for all she had done. My pillow was soaked with tears as I awoke the next morning. I sat up in bed and called, "Tim ..... Tim!!" Jess rushed to me and began to speak to comfort me. I could smell fresh brewed coffee but couldn’t eat or drink anything. Suddenly, the harsh reality again set in.

As I laid back for a few minutes, vivid pictures, some in slow motion, others in real time, flashed through my head. Closing my eyes, I saw Tim and I frolicking like kids at the beach, snuggling on the couch watching a video, holding hands as we shopped for groceries, making love by candlelight as the rain pounded against the roof.

Lying motionless, I could feel the softness of his hair as my fingers ran through it. I could feel the sand on my feet. I could feel his warm embrace. My hands gripped the blanket and I held tight. I could feel the wetness of the tracks of my tears streaming steadily down my face and pooling on and around my neck. These were all I had left – memories, my memories, our memories. A moment in time that I could relive time after time. All I had to do was invoke them and these memories would come to life. Tim would always be with me. Each time I closed my eyes, I could see him and feel him.

Jess called out from the far room that it was getting late and there was paperwork required to release Tim. It was going to be a long drive to New York and an even longer day before we could rest. Slowly, I began to get out of bed. As my feet touched the floor and I slowly stood, a cool breeze brushed by me. Momentarily pausing, I glanced at the HVAC system a few feet away. The heat was on, the room was warm. My mind wandered for a moment, then I made my way to the bathroom and began to get ready for the grueling day ahead.

We were met at the funeral home by Tim’s parents and sister. We all took turns consoling each other, taking charge of arrangements, as well as, buckling under the grief. Jess pitched in and made sure anything anyone wanted or needed was forthcoming. There was much to do and little time left.

Tim’s parents insisted Jess and I stay the night with them, however, Jess and I were exhausted and decided it was best if we got a room in town. As I sat down on the bed, in the Days Inn, I suddenly felt so calm, yet, so alone, so lost. The whirlwind at its end, I realized not only that I missed Tim, but how much I missed him. This man was more a part of me and my life then I realized. What would I do without him? The only answer I received was relentless tears and the consummate pain that encumbered my mind, body, spirit and soul.

The following day was the one and only day of Tim’s viewing. Varying displays of flowers filled the room. Word spread quickly and, over the course of the evening, more than a hundred of Tim’s friends and acquaintances came to pay their respects. I took my place, in the front row seats reserved for immediate family, beside his parents and sister.

Tim looked so handsome in his black suit, white shirt and black tie. His light brown hair contrasted against the white pillow his head rested on. There were no visible signs of the accident that took him. He appeared to be peacefully sleeping, a vision I had witnessed many, many times as I laid beside him when I awoke before him. Only this time, Tim did not open his eyes, smile, and kiss me hello. Outwardly, my composure was a dignified, calm and somber; internally, I was screaming.

Moments prior to closing the casket, privately we said our farewells. Tim’s mother became hysterical and she was assisted to the waiting limo by Tim’s father and sister.

As I slowly approached the casket, I thought, for a moment, it appeared that Tim was about to move. My eyes scanned every inch of his face, burning his image in my brain. I gingerly touched his left hand which rested on his right. His hands were cold and dense. I had written Tim a special love letter, meant just for he and I. As I tucked it between his hands, my hand gently squeezed his.

Slowly, my tear-filled eyes made their way to his handsome face again. My fingers instinctively stroked his hair, then moved down to his face, where they glided over his cheek and jaw line. I leaned in and my quivering lips tenderly kissed his for the last time. With my lips an inch from his, fighting back tears, I whispered, “I love you, baby. Walk with God and sleep with the angels, my love.” A cool breeze passed between us and I heard, or thought I heard, Tim say, “I’m always with you.”

I’ve made the trip to visit Tim in New York several times since. I’d bring coffee and crackers and rest against his headstone. I’d talk to him at length – filling him in on all that was happening.

Sometimes, I’d feel like he was sitting across from me, listening to all that I said; other times, I’d feel him next to me, so close, in fact, I could feel his touch or embrace. For certain, no matter where I am, or what I’m doing, I always feel Tim’s presence. And, yes, every so often, I smile when a cool breeze brushes over me.

You are the reason I believe in true love. You are the reason, I believe that two pepole are created especially for each other. You are the reason, I believe that God heard and answered the prayer deep in my soul. Until we meet again, you are safe in my heart. My love shall be your sanctuary - not for a moment in time, but eternally.