IT'S HARD TO EXPLAIN

This morning, when I awoke, I lay there for the longest time thinking that  I would declare a do nothing day.  Maybe, I thought, I've been trying to do too much.  I'm stuck, and I admitted it.  Yet, I know others who have survived the deaths of their spouses, and they seem to be doing just fine, moving on.  It's just that this particular person, me, doesn't want to do that yet.  It seems somehow disloyal and almost profane; even though I know that in time I will join the ranks of those who have moved on.  Not yet.

I have pictures of Gwen everywhere, some are as recent as a few weeks before she died; some are when we first met.  They all serve as reminders of specific times and places in our life that have taken on such increased meaning and importance now that my perfect partner is gone.  I know that at some point I will pack them up and put them away somewhere safe and let my kids worry about what to do with them when I die.  The picture Gwen had taken when our engagement was announced in the newspaper held my attention this morning.  I could feel her steady, sexy gaze in the most loving of ways.  Yes, it is a sexy gaze. (My dad loved this picture; I remember him picking it up and kissing it.  Like father, like son.)   This is a picture that I suppose my kids and grandkids must look at and think, come on, that's way too sexy to be my mother, or, how could that be my grandma, she was old and wrinkly?  In the photo she's bare shouldered, wearing some sort of fluffy white thing, hair perfect, and her clear blue eyes look out at me even now in the most reassuring way.  Love will see us through; that's what she says to me, even now.  These word came to me:

IT’S HARD TO EXPLAIN

Today, more than usual,

I miss her so much.

Back in September, 1962,

she signed  a letter like this:

I love you so much

I just can’t explain,

but you make my life complete.

Those are her exact words.

I loved seeing them then

as I do now,

knowing full well

what it’s been like

making someone’s life complete.

She spent her life

explaining her love to me.

Today, more than ever,

it’s hard letting go of that.

John A. Bayerl,  February 10, 2011

The thought occurs to me that it would be so unfortunate if I were to find it easy to let go of that. She continues to complete my life, as always, in her own way.   This won't be a do nothing day after all.