The Invitation(70)
All this time Carol Myers has shown the stoic strength and personal dignity characteristic of someone who must perform a solemn public duty. When the doors are finally closed to the public insuring her last private moments with her late husband, she feels completely, and utterly alone. For Carol Myers, the entire world feels as empty as the room she is now standing in. Walking over to the coffin of her dead husband, her grief is heavy, and as she touches the casket a wave of deep sorrow floods her entire being. Bitter tears and unrelenting grief are effusive as pent up emotions are no longer containable. Then, incredibly, Carol clearly hears her name, and is physically startled by the familiar sound of that voice.
“Carol, don’t be afraid.”
“Ken, Ken is that you?” she asks, gasping in disbelief.
“Yes, Carol, it’s me”
“Where are you?”
“I’m here. You can’t see me, but I’m here, Carol.”
“How are you doing this? Is this really happening?”
“Carol, Carol it’s all right. Don’t be afraid. Listen to me, Carol, please. I want to tell you something.”
“How do I know? How do I know it’s you?” she desperately asks, while looking into the empty space of the room expecting to see the form of her husband. But the sound of her husband’s voice seems to have no discernible source.
“Do you remember our conversation in Miami late Saturday night, when we talked for over three hours?” he asks.
“When we were inside the tent,” she replies.
“Yes, when we talked about our first campaign together, we talked about the day we were married, and how your sister was late for the wedding.”
“Yes, yes, I remember.”
“I am your husband, Ken Myers.”
“I believe you. I believe you. Are you coming back?”
“I’m sorry, Carol. I can’t do that.”
“I’m confused, Ken. Why did this happen?”
“It’s all right, Carol. It’s all right. There was no other way. I wish I could have somehow prepared you for what happened, but that would have been impossible.”
“Did you know what was going to happen to you that night?”
“Yes I did.”
“Then why did you let it happen?”
“I had to, Carol.”
“Why? What about us? What about the life we had together?”
“Our happiness, our future together, had to be sacrificed for a greater good.”
“What greater good? I don’t see any good in this at all.”
“The sorrow that you experience today means that a far greater sorrow might be avoided for millions of others.”
“I don’t understand. The country needs you. I need you,” Carol says, still looking into empty space.
“There’s a greater need, Carol. The need to insure that future generations have the same chance to live that we had. The shock of what happened in Miami will help make that possible.”
Unconvinced, Carol shakes her head and sobs. “All I feel is pain, Ken. Just pain. How can that be good for anything?”
“I know it’s painful for you, but there was simply no other way. Things had to happen in the way that they did. I know that’s hard to accept.”
“Does this have anything to do with what your mother told me?”
“Yes it does. It’s something she’s had to live with for so many years. I’m glad she told you. Comfort her please, Carol.”
“You know I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Ken, how did you know this was going to happen?”
“In one sense, I didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“All my life, I’ve somehow known that I would do something very unusual. My life seemed to unfold as it did without effort. Everything was in preparation for what you saw in Miami. It was uncanny. I can see that now, but at the time it seemed I was just living my life.”
“Well, where does that leave me in all this? I guess I’m asking, who have I been married to for these years?”
“You have been married to a man who loves you very much, and always will. Our love is genuine, Carol. Nothing can ever change that.”
Fighting back tears, Carol’s sobbing voice is cracking. “But this does change things, Ken. I’ll never see you again. I wish I were with you.”
“Oh, Carol, we will be together again. A human lifetime is one chapter in a book with many chapters, just as life is an expression of something beyond itself. Our greatest joy is still before us. I want to thank you for the gift and privilege of allowing me to be part of your life. Your love and companionship have been an abiding source of strength and deep personal enrichment. I can never repay you for that. Thank you, Carol.”