On a May 5th.

Last night I heard the saddest story ever heard on Earth. Since I was little, my dad's best friend, James, always came over every saturday afternoon. I remember how they first used to take a cup of tea and sat on the porch of our little old house, and then, they used to play cards, read, still talk or do whatever. I also remember that on saturdays I used to do stuff with my mom and it was our special day together. I could pick anything I wanted to do, any game or even go to the beach and go for a walk. Then we talked. Or not. My mom brought a radio every time and whenever we did not want to talk, i couldturn it on and we would listen to music. In those days there weren't commercials, I miss that kind of radio. Last night, James did not come home and for the first time since I remember my mom got a saturday off and I stayed home with my dad, sitting in the porch, like he usually does with James. I asked him the reason of this routine that started years ago, maybe even before I was born. Then, he told me an old and sad story about James.
James and my dad went to college together. My mom and dad were already together, but James found "his half" the third year of his career. Six years later James and Mary, that was the name of his love, decided to get married in a very special way. Both of them liked adventures but never had done parachuting jumping from an airplane. Guess where they celebrated the wedding? Yes, in the airplane. And then jumped together with the parachutes attached to their backs, ready to be opened. Into the sky. They were way higher than Heaven. They kissed in the air and the big happy smile of Mary is the last thing James remember.
Her parachute never opened and she died the day that was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives.
It happened on May 5th of 1978.
Yesterday was a Saturday, and it was also May 5th, but of 2011.But James was not with my dad, he was celebrating their anniversary in the cemetery. I never realized before that he had always missed that day at my house. Then I ran to the cemetery, and I did not stop until I saw James there, sitting in a chair, next to the grave of his love. He has decorated around the grave with lights and roses. From where I was, behind a tree, I could see too a folded paper in which was written: 
"I will always be with you there, in the sky. As soon as the parachute stopped to work, so did my heart and my life. I miss you,    James."