Stories for the week of October 5-11 (or should I say story)

Okay...so the first week only produced 1 story...mine! Here it is anyway...perhaps it will inspire some others for next week.

Here is a reminder of the Photo of the week....

The Last Note  by Kim Holdiman

     Jeffrey had married the love of his life at the age of 22. She was the most kind-hearted woman he had ever known. He never did know why God had blessed him so richly. Serenity was her name, and it described her so beautifully. You couldn't help but feel the peace and joy when you were in her presence. Her laughter could wash over him like the bubbling of a creek. I twas like the flow of life's pure water.
     They had gone through many trials in their 39 years of marriage, but never had they doubted their love for each other. Through 2 miscarriages, her mother's long battle with breast cancer, the ups and downs of raising their 3 amazing children... through it all, their love had coursed strong and powerful in their lives and hearts.
     Even now, he could not imagine doing it with anyone else. She was everything that made him right. He was no longer a young man and their children had lives of their own to make work. They lived far away and came for visits. Oh how he enjoyed seeing them and the grandbabies, but they needed to build their own lives and families now. It's just that she has been so much a part of who he is for so long, it's hard to even begin to know what to do without her.
     Alzheimer's, it's an ugly word, and an even uglier disease. It's almost as if it has single-handedly stolen his Serenity away. Except for the music. Five years have passed now since she began to slip away. It was gradual at first. But now the only time he could see a glimpse of his Serenity was when he played his music... their music. it's all he lived for anymore... those few short moments of stolen time with his girl as he plays his guitar.
     Today, she didn't even come out for even a moment, not his sweet Serenity. The doctor said she was not doing well. The pneumonia had taken a toll on her lungs and her heart. He didn't think she would make it through the night. Tears slipped past his lashes and onto his rough, weathered cheeks. He nodded at the doctor and went back to play one last song for her.
     Slowly he opened his case, took out his instrument, stopped briefly to take her hand in his and lift it to his lips and brush it with  a kiss. After placing it back on the bed, he began to play, "The First Time Ever I Saw your Face." His tears streamed freely now. Her sweet lips turned up in a smile as the last note was played and her last breath was taken.
     After saying his final goodbye, he packed up his guitar, put on his hat and slowly walked back to their empty apartment with a broken heart.