Drawing out into the light.

A while ago I came across another poem that Gwen has stashed away in a cabinet. On it she had written "For My Husband, John" and at the end signed it "Gwen."  I remember getting it from her, but it was a long time ago.  Probably during what our children refer to as our "hippy" stage.It was printed in purple ink by the old Ditto Machine.  This too has become one of my "treasures"; I framed it and display it on the mantel. Here it is:

For my husband, John

I love you

not only for what you are

but for what I am

when I am with you

I love you

not only for what you

have made of yourself

but for what you are making of me.

I love you for the part of me

that you bring out.

I love you for putting your hand

into my heaped up heart

and passing over all the foolish,

weak things that you can’t help dimly

seeing there,

and for drawing out into the light

all the beautiful belongings

that no one else had looked quite so far

tofind.

I love you because you have done

more than any creed to make me good

and more than any fate could have done

to make me happy

You have done it, without a touch,

without a word, without a sign—

you have done it by being yourself.

                                    Gwen

Found among Gwen’s belongings,

January 5, 21010

Written by Roy Croft

I remember reading this for the first time and being so taken by the part where it talks about: drawing out into the light all he beautiful belongings that no one else had looked quite so far to fnd.  Gwen certainly saw things in me that no one else did, and, although I have joked that she married me in spite of them,throughout our marriage she continued to encourage me to discover, bring into the light and develop the things that only she saw in me.  I did the same for her. I am aware too that were it the present day this poem is the sort of thing that would circulate around the Internet and be glanced at briefly before being either mindlessly forwarded or deleted.  Instead, I am able to enjoy once again her handwritten message to me and be warmed on a cold winter afternoon by my memoriesof the love that we shared.  And, be reminded once again of how she did it: 

without a touch,

without a word, without a sign—

you have done it by being yourself.   Thank you, my love.