If you're ever going to love me.

Watching the Packers win the Super Bowl was bittersweet for me.  Gwen wasn't particularly a sport fan; that is, unless her children or grandchildren were involved.  I do, however, have many fond memories of the two of us watching the Packers play; especially Sunday afternoons on the couch in the family room in   the house in Gaastra, watching on black and white TV. More often than not, she would ask to put her head in my lap and be asleep before the fourth quarter rolled around.  Although my children joined me with frequent Text messages throughout the game yesterday, it wasn't the same as having those moments with Gwen. Of course, those times are gone, none the less, longing for the past persists.

Gwen's and my dear friend for so many years, Elise, returned to California today, but before leaving she and I had breakfast together at a restaurant we often met at  named Afternoon Delight. She commented on the irony of the restaurant name, but it was a favorite place for us to enjoy time together.  As we said our farewells this morning, Elise hugged me, kissed me on the lips and said, "Be strong, John, and don't forget we love you a lot." During my tearful walk back to my car, I was reminded of a poem that I found folded up in Gwen's wallet.  I copied it and  sent it to friends and relatives. I has special meaning to me now in light of Elise's parting words, and because her words so reflected what Gwen told me she expects of me after she is gone. This is the poem:

IF YOU ARE EVER GOING TO LOVE ME

If you are ever going to love me,
love me now, while I can know

The sweet and tender feelings,

Which from true affection flow.

Love me now

While I am living.

Do not wait until I’m gone

And then have it chiseled in marble,

Sweet words on ice-cold stone.

If you have tender thoughts of me,

Please tell me now.

If you wait until I’m sleeping,

Never to awaken,

There will be death between us,

And I won’t hear you then.

So, if you love me, even a little bit,

Let me know it while I am living

So I can treasure it.

Anonymous

On the day of Gwen's death I remember kissing her on the neck and saying "I love you". As she always did, she whispered back, "I love you more."