Ray of Light by Shelley Shepard Gray Page A

“You’re supposed to read and relax. Not work on your to-do list.”
    Hearing her own voice, Amanda winced. When had she begun to talk to herself, anyway? When she got engaged? Pregnant with Regina?
    It had been when she’d been sitting by Wesley’s bedside in the hospital, of course.
    When he’d fallen into an uneasy slumber—on account of the many medicines he’d been given to combat the pain of the disease—she’d begun talking to him. Telling him about her day. About every little thing that Regina did.
    Then, just to have something to talk about, she’d start telling him stories about her childhood. Over time, she’d begun to talk aloud just to help herself deal with all the sadness that had welled up inside her. She’d felt like she had to talk about everything; otherwise, it would get stuck inside and make her sick, too.
    And she’d already been so very tired and heartsick.
    Wesley’s decline had lasted for months. Long enough for her chatty vigils to become a habit. After his death, she’d taken to talking to herself when she’d known she was alone. The habit felt comforting to her in a strange way. It was now something she was used to.
    But living without Wesley? That was something she wasn’t used to at all.
    Now, she realized with a start, things had changed again. After two years, the daily emptiness that had been her constant companion had slowly abated. Oh, the pain was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp or obtrusive as it used to be.
    Now, missing Wesley wasn’t the first thing she experienced in the morning, or the last thing she thought of before she went to sleep. She no longer thought about him every waking moment, instead thinking of him at odd times. His memory no longer brought her to tears, and she’d begun to remember their life together in a distant, almost melancholy way.
    Though this transition wasn’t something she was altogether comfortable with, Amanda certainly welcomed the relief. For so long she’d felt like a woman twice her age.
    â€œBeing a widow isn’t for the faint of heart,” she told herself. On the heels of that, she remembered an old saying of her aunt’s: There is no strength where there is no struggle.
    That saying had a lot of truth to it.
    But sometimes, even the truth didn’t bring the sort of comfort she craved.
    Oh, but she hated these bouts of depression! What she needed to do was think of her blessings.
    â€œYou have Regina,” she said out loud. She had Wesley’s family, too. And even though Marlene was determined to keep Amanda wrapped in grief, she’d always been there for her, and that was a blessing.
    Her own family was still back in Pennsylvania. And though she loved them, they’d been distant witnesses to everything she’d gone through with her husband. Never had she considered moving near them.
    But now, for the first time, she wondered what she was giving up by embracing only her past with Wesley.
    â€œYou should call and write your family more often. And while you’re at it, pray about your fear of moving on, Amanda,” she told herself sternly. “Every time you try to give up another part of your life with Wesley, it’s brought you to tears. Why, it took you six months to even take his clothes out of the house.”
    The memory of boxing his clothes still made her cringe. It had taken her almost three hours to pack one large box, and almost another one to carefully seal the box with packing tape.
    Just when she was about to scold herself a little more, she noticed Roman walking on the beach with a dog, of all things. The shaggy yellow dog was darting along the shoreline, sniffing the sand, scampering into the water, then rushing out with surprising speed.
    Intrigued, she walked to the white picket fence and leaned her elbows along the top of it.
    Roman held the dog’s leash with one hand, but gave the animal enough