The Honey Do List

Some houses just whisper their story to me.

They sat in those chairs as newlyweds. She’d make sweet tea for them to drink, and he’d occasionally slip some bourbon into his if it’d been a hard day at the mill. When their children were young, they’d sit and watch them collect lighting bugs into empty mayonnaise jars. They’d sit for hours and talk about the "little fixes" his wife would have for him to do around the house. She’d sit there, write them out, and place them in a jar on the window ledge above the kitchen sink. She’d stuck a label on it “Honey Do List.” He’d fuss about that list, but that was just for show. He loved making her happy.

One day when he came back from the mill she was sitting in her chair, holding a letter from her doctor in her hand and weeping. Seems it was terminal, and the doctor was sorry. The husband gently pulled her into his lap, and they sat there and cried together. After the funeral he’d sit there until late at night and sip her sweet tea. He didn’t want to go inside and sleep in an empty bed. Sometimes people passing by would see him working on repairs around the house. They figured he was fixing it up to sell it.

Last winter a neighbor noticed him sitting in his chair on the porch, sound asleep. It was starting to snow. When they stopped to wake him they found that he’d passed away, holding an empty jar labelled “Honey Do List.”