THERE MUST BE A WAY

Shortly after Gwen died I had this image that my life was like wading in a trout stream.  In this stream was this huge boulder named Gwen where I could sit and rest, eat a sandwich, enjoy the sun, marvel at the beauty of the water lilies and be safe at night if need be.  Then one day, out of nowhere, came a huge wave that carried the boulder out of sight, around a bend in the stream.  I became trapped, barely afloat,  in the huge hole left where the boulder had been.  The relentless current now slowly fills the hole, it's a slow, painful process, the silt and debris that washes into the hole is washed away almost immediately.  Each day, only a little bit sticks. I know that over time the hole will be filled and I'll be able to walk where I once struggled just to keep from drowning. But, I remind myself, the boulder remains around a bend in the stream.


Three years ago Gwen gave me a birthday card that I keep close at hand.  On the front was an abstract picture of  water gently flowing in an arc, aptly titled A Bend in The River.  Inside the card she wrote this:  John, The love of my life!!  I will miss you terribly someday, but I'm hoping we get to spend another of your birthdays together and I get to make a German Chocolate Cake again. And she signed it:  Love always, XOXO, Gwen.  I'll miss having her bake that cake on my birthday later this year.  I usually was the one who took the time to make the coconut pecan frosting; I'll even miss doing that. Someday I'll have to write a poem about that boulder in the river, today, my life is more like trying to be more with less:

THERE MUST BE A WAY

It should be easy;

learning to be more with less.

So much I cared for is gone.

Less to do, more time, should be easy.

If it were just money, or things,

that would be easy.

Can’t even add them up,

the things I no longer have.

What do I do with the memories,

her smell on my pillow?

I keep telling myself

there must be a way to do this,

be more with less.

John A. Bayerl, February 14, 2011

I'm  more complete thinking about that boulder around the bend in the river, missing me.  Thanks for all you did leave me, sweetheart.