ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

Tears of Angels

Updated on July 20, 2012

We stared at each other across the patio. Idalese slumped in her chair like a wilted daisy. Her usually bright and bubbly personality was flat, barely discernable under the weight of the oppressive August heat. Even her platinum tresses had lost their gleam. In place of them was a ragged mop of dull, dripping strands, clinging like tentacles to her bare neck and shoulders. She exhaled a heavy sigh, shifted in her seat, and let her arms flop from the arm rests to dangle limply on either side of the chair.

I picked up a page of the newspaper I had only minutes before set aside, waving it in an attempt to create a breeze. All I accomplished were small bursts of sun-fried oxygen spattering my face and singeing my eyes. I could feel the stickiness of cosmetics slipping and sliding on the oil slick that was my complexion. Somewhere in the distance a lawn mower growled in harmony to the barking of a neighbor’s dog.

The sizzling hell that had become summer was finally getting the best of me. This wasn’t just a heat wave. It was an eruption, giving little warning before spewing forth its fiery tempest. The first week hadn’t bothered me. Whenever the soaring temperatures became too much to withstand, I’d simply gone into the bedroom and let the little window air-conditioner blast me with its icy currents.

Then yesterday disaster had struck. I turned the switch to max and the machine stuttered and shuddered to a complete halt. No amount of pleading, crying, stomping of feet, or cussing like a sailor would cajole it into operation. Smacking it, shaking it, flipping the dial back and forth proved to be no better of a solution. I blubbered all the way to my cold shower.

Idalese let loose another long drawn out sigh. “Tell me again why you quit your job?” she said, punctuating the command with a question mark.

She was a great sister, and I loved having her spend her summer break with me, but day to day living with a college student could become tedious. I admired her zest for life, her tenacity and determination once she decided to go after her dreams. I simply didn’t care for her constant nagging and questioning about my jobless state. For all her intellectual brilliance, she was as thick as the mud on the Mississippi River banks when it came to understanding my need for a retreat from the sorrow of my failed marriage.

“You know why.”

I pretended to peruse the printed sheet in my hand, hoping against hope that she would let the matter drop. Jack had been old-fashioned. He’d wanted the mother of his children to be home to care for them, instead of farming them out to strangers 60 hours a week. He’d wanted to provide for his family as his father before had done. He’d wanted to rebuild the family business.

Times had been tough all over the country. Our little town of 6,000 hadn’t fared so well as the bigger cities. Keeping a family grocery store going in the face of a recession was tough enough; doing so while contending with chains like Wal-mart was near impossible. I was afraid to turn my back on a solid paycheck in favor of what I felt were Jack’s misguided aspirations. I understood his desire to be his own boss, to follow in the family tradition, but asking me to sacrifice financial security while starting a family of our own was too much.

At first, he’d agreed to me working for a year to put some money away for emergencies, but that year had turned to two, then three, and before I had realized it, seven years had passed. I liked my job as a restaurant manager. It was exciting and chaotic, sometimes exasperating, but always it had been rewarding. I liked meeting new people, turning them into loyal customers who became old friends over time. I was good at my job, and in no time I was supervising the entire operation with the promise of a district manager’s position and salary soon to come.

Additional responsibility brought additional hours on the job. It wasn’t long before Jack and I were like ships passing in the night. I was too caught up in my own success to notice that Jack was spending more and more time at the local VFW, wandering home in the wee hours of the morning. By the time I realized what was happening to our marriage, Jack had stopped coming home altogether.

“You’re wasting your life, Katie. You can’t bring him back.” Idalese could be brutal in her candor.

Her words were like fingernails on a chalkboard, screeching against the raw emotions suffocating me more than the wet air I was struggling to breath. A white hot pain sliced through my heart, searing the tender core of my being. I couldn’t expose my true thoughts to her. She wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t comprehend my shame. Her youth separated her from my reality. She had yet to experience her great love, while I had thrown mine away.

I pretended to ignore her comment, not letting her see my heartache on this day of all days. A year seemed like an eternity, and yet, I couldn’t make peace with myself. I had gone to him, furious that he had simply left without a backward glance at me. In my pain, I had flung accusations of infidelity at him, blamed him for my choice to continue working, and heaped mountains of guilt on him for his failure to support me in my dreams, too. I refused to give in to the urge to throw myself sobbing into his arms, beseeching his forgiveness. My terror was stronger than my need to beg for his return home. Instead, I stomped off in a rage, disregarding the anguish contorting his features.

It had been a Saturday; one as scalding as this day. Weather reports promising a much needed rain storm were broadcast throughout the day, but by day’s end, the earth was as parched as it had been for the previous three weeks. I was sitting under the twilight sky, contemplating how good the rain would feel against my skin, and enjoying the rare weekend off from my restaurant duties. I had mixed feelings about rainstorms now that Jack was gone from my life.

When I met Jack, it had been raining. The water was coming down in torrents, bouncing off the pavement like gymnasts on a trampoline. We had suffered several call-offs that night, and I was covering for a much needed bartender. Jack sloshed in the door, trailing puddles with every step he took toward the bar. Four months later we were married in a tiny little one room church, madly in love and looking forward to a lifetime of wedded bliss.

Sitting under the darkening sky, sipping a glass of white zinfandel, I’d wondered if I would feel the urge to play in the rain the way Jack and I had. Jack had insisted that rain was really the tears shed by the angels over the beauty of our love. Our most memorable times were created during rainstorms. Making love in the cooling drizzle of a summer evening had been our favorite. We had laughed and played like school children, splashing in puddles, dancing slowly to the tune of our favorite song, Always and Forever, in an afternoon shower that hadn’t quite put out the sun. Afterward, we would sit on the porch and wait for the inevitable rainbow, snuggling together to ward off the damp chill of our soggy clothing.

As that hot and muggy Saturday had drawn to a close, slow dragging footsteps could be heard coming around to the back of the house. I’d looked up to find my brother-in-law. He took a hesitant step toward me, faltered, and then stopped altogether.

I barely heard his whispered, “Jack’s dead.”

The trill of Idalese’s cell phone brought me back to my excruciating agony. I turned my head, hoping to blink away the evidence of my disgrace. I was tired, too tired to go on anymore. I needed peace, but didn’t know how to find it. I had waited too long, believing I would always have another day to say all the things I should have said. I waited too long to ask the most important question, one I so desperately needed to have answered.

“I’m meeting friends for a drink.” Idalese sprang from her chair forgetting the lethargy engulfing her mere seconds before. “I can’t take another minute of this heat. Wanna come along?”

I shook my head, careful not to let her see my eyes. My fingers played nervously with the gold chain around my throat, and I knew I was giving myself away, in spite of my best efforts.

My sister hunkered down in front of me, looking up into my face with an expression of such love and concern I couldn’t swallow around the lump forming in my throat. “Today’s a good day to say goodbye, Katie,” she said softly. “It’s time to let go.”

I watched her disappear around the side of the house, heard the car pull away from the curb. Dusk was coming on, and still there was no hint of the sweltering humidity letting up. I watched the sun as it sank lower in the sky, wondering how much longer I could hang on, waiting for peace to find me. My thoughts returned to the question I refused ever to voice. He could never answer me now, but it didn’t matter. I already knew the answer as sure as I knew my own name.

One year ago today my hopes of reconciliation had been shattered, the glittering shards of my dreams twinkling like stars mocking me in the darkest recesses of my heart. I hugged myself, squeezing my arms against my belly, trying to squelch the rising hysteria clawing its way out. I swallowed desperately against the expanding pain, pulsing ever outward and upward from deep inside of me, pulverizing and crushing the last bit of joy left to me through my memories.

“Why? Why? Why?” I slid from the chair to my knees, covering my face with my hands, hiding myself away from the beauty of the sun melting into gathering clouds. “Why didn’t you love me enough to stay?” My rage was building; daring me to defy the despair and desolation I had called my only friend for the last year. I wasn’t sure who I was raging at, Jack or the Great Benevolent Being of the Almighty. It didn’t matter. I needed an answer. I needed to be heard. “Answer me, damn you!” my heart screamed, “Why? Did you ever love me at all?”

I rocked back and forth in my misery, waiting for the answer I was sure would not come. I knew I didn’t deserve to be comforted. I had taken Jack’s love and trampled it, broken the blossom from its vine, and left it to wither in the dust of my selfishness. It was too late. He was gone.

The first cooling drops landed softly on my hair and neck like butterfly kisses. I turned my face skyward, holding my breath, scarcely able to believe what was happening. Another drop landed on my cheek, to be followed by another and another, until a steady drizzle was caressing my face and body with the touch of a lover, soft and gentle. I spread my arms out to catch more of the angels’ tears while my own flowed freely.

I stood up and twirled slowly in the rain, feeling Jack’s presence all around me. Somewhere in the distance, a neighbor’s radio music wafted through the night air, playing our song. Today of all days, Jack had come home one last time. My prayers had been answered. My constant companions were leaving me, to be replaced with new ones of joy and contentment. Peace had finally found me. It was a good day to say goodbye and hello.

If you think this story is entertaining and know someone who might enjoy it, please pass it on by clicking the Tweet, Like, or +1 button provided at the top of the page.


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • Terri Meredith profile imageAUTHOR

      Terri Meredith 

      7 years ago from Pennsylvania

      Thanks! I'm so glad you found my blog. It was mainly for my friends and family since I'm not available to "entertain" them as much as I used to be. {smile} I have to confess though, I don't write on it enough. Get so caught up in one activity or another that I'm always rushing back and forth. Oh, well...I've lived this way my entire life..too old to change it now. Besides, my days go really fast!

    • haikutwinkle profile image


      7 years ago

      I like your hubs and your other blog on wordpress. Sometimes I think the minds became cluttered due to various factors and mostly because of what people easily believed to be true - what they hear, what they see, what they think they hear or see, without getting their facts straight. News can be misleading/exaggerating, Marketing/Advertising campaign can be stereotypic/conforming, Propaganda can be contagious,etc. One man's "reality" can be another man's "illusion" (just a thought). Thank you for reading my comment ;) Best Wishes!

      Tears of Angels

      they are healing

      for broken bones

      for prickly thorns

      for lost moments

      for love estranged

    • Terri Meredith profile imageAUTHOR

      Terri Meredith 

      7 years ago from Pennsylvania

      You're doing great things for my ego!!! Sorry it took so long for me to reply. I've spent the last 18 hours restoring my computer to factory settings. Virus got past my security and did all kinds of nasty little things. I'm still setting everything up.

    • amybradley77 profile image


      7 years ago

      You are truely a talented and blessed writter, great work here! A.B.

    • Terri Meredith profile imageAUTHOR

      Terri Meredith 

      7 years ago from Pennsylvania

      I'm so glad you like it!

    • Wintermyst profile image


      7 years ago

      Great Story

    • Terri Meredith profile imageAUTHOR

      Terri Meredith 

      8 years ago from Pennsylvania

      Hmmmm....well what can I say BFF? Sometimes even I get sappy!!! Mere moments of weakness...

    • profile image


      8 years ago

      "Jack had insisted that rain was really the tears shed by the angels over the beauty of our love." Absolutely beautiful story.

    • jez_jay33 profile image


      8 years ago from Los Banos Laguna

      Hey, do you have like a facebook account? i would want to really meet you...i also make novels and short stories too. soon i'll be posting some...your story was really interesting...loved reading it

    • Terri Meredith profile imageAUTHOR

      Terri Meredith 

      8 years ago from Pennsylvania

      Thank you

    • Michael Adams1959 profile image

      Isaiah Michael 

      8 years ago from Wherever God leads us.

      very nice i like it a lot


    This website uses cookies

    As a user in the EEA, your approval is needed on a few things. To provide a better website experience, uses cookies (and other similar technologies) and may collect, process, and share personal data. Please choose which areas of our service you consent to our doing so.

    For more information on managing or withdrawing consents and how we handle data, visit our Privacy Policy at:

    Show Details
    HubPages Device IDThis is used to identify particular browsers or devices when the access the service, and is used for security reasons.
    LoginThis is necessary to sign in to the HubPages Service.
    Google RecaptchaThis is used to prevent bots and spam. (Privacy Policy)
    AkismetThis is used to detect comment spam. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide data on traffic to our website, all personally identifyable data is anonymized. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Traffic PixelThis is used to collect data on traffic to articles and other pages on our site. Unless you are signed in to a HubPages account, all personally identifiable information is anonymized.
    Amazon Web ServicesThis is a cloud services platform that we used to host our service. (Privacy Policy)
    CloudflareThis is a cloud CDN service that we use to efficiently deliver files required for our service to operate such as javascript, cascading style sheets, images, and videos. (Privacy Policy)
    Google Hosted LibrariesJavascript software libraries such as jQuery are loaded at endpoints on the or domains, for performance and efficiency reasons. (Privacy Policy)
    Google Custom SearchThis is feature allows you to search the site. (Privacy Policy)
    Google MapsSome articles have Google Maps embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    Google ChartsThis is used to display charts and graphs on articles and the author center. (Privacy Policy)
    Google AdSense Host APIThis service allows you to sign up for or associate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, so that you can earn money from ads on your articles. No data is shared unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Google YouTubeSome articles have YouTube videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    VimeoSome articles have Vimeo videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    PaypalThis is used for a registered author who enrolls in the HubPages Earnings program and requests to be paid via PayPal. No data is shared with Paypal unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook LoginYou can use this to streamline signing up for, or signing in to your Hubpages account. No data is shared with Facebook unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    MavenThis supports the Maven widget and search functionality. (Privacy Policy)
    Google AdSenseThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Google DoubleClickGoogle provides ad serving technology and runs an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Index ExchangeThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    SovrnThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook AdsThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Unified Ad MarketplaceThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    AppNexusThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    OpenxThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Rubicon ProjectThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    TripleLiftThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Say MediaWe partner with Say Media to deliver ad campaigns on our sites. (Privacy Policy)
    Remarketing PixelsWe may use remarketing pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to advertise the HubPages Service to people that have visited our sites.
    Conversion Tracking PixelsWe may use conversion tracking pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to identify when an advertisement has successfully resulted in the desired action, such as signing up for the HubPages Service or publishing an article on the HubPages Service.
    Author Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide traffic data and reports to the authors of articles on the HubPages Service. (Privacy Policy)
    ComscoreComScore is a media measurement and analytics company providing marketing data and analytics to enterprises, media and advertising agencies, and publishers. Non-consent will result in ComScore only processing obfuscated personal data. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Tracking PixelSome articles display amazon products as part of the Amazon Affiliate program, this pixel provides traffic statistics for those products (Privacy Policy)