Opening the Curtains

The house on Spruce Street had been in the Chinberg/Calabrese family for 63 years. The last 14 years following Edna’s death, Ray had been alone in the house. The house was dark with layers of curtains on the windows. Tacks were used to secure the sides of the curtains to the wall and clothespins were used to keep the draperies closed tight. No light was allowed in.

On the dressing table in the bedroom were all of Edna’s things – her brushes, her cosmetics, her perfumes, her dentures. Her clothes were in the closet and in the chest of drawers; her personal items were in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Nothing had been moved and was covered with a thick layer of dust.

The refrigerator was empty except for condiments and cans of soda; the freezer was full of TV dinners and individual ice cream cups. The stove sat unused and inaccessible with a table and chair pushed up against it. A microwave sat on a little cart next to the sink.

There was a potted hibiscus plant sitting on the window ledge of the dining room. A single stem rose nearly six feet from the pot and at its end, just four leaves remained. Beside it sat a pitcher of water.

Opening the curtains to let in the light exposed the condition of the house. The curtains were stiff and dusty with that fuzzy sort of greasy dirt that exists in urban areas. The roller shades were brittle and came crashing down. The furniture was worn and soiled, the carpets dirty and the linoleum worn through. Cobwebs darkened the corners of the ceiling and left patterns on the walls.

And there sat Edna’s organ, pristine and dust-free in the corner of the living room – a feather duster discretely hidden behind the music stand. Her sewing machine, in the adjoining room, had also been recently dusted.

The house was so quiet. It was like the music ended the day Edna died. It broke my heart to see how this wonderful man had spent the last years of his life. It was so painfully clear that Edna was the love of his life and the day he lost her was the day his life no longer had meaning.