WORDS THAT MUST BE SAID

A trusted friend sent me this caveat about Easter and all "anniversaries" pertaining to Gwen's death.  STAY BUSY!  Good advice, and there is a truth to it.  During the time I've been visiting out here in Colorado I find that by staying connected to and involved with Jeanne and Bob and Nick and Izzy I have less time to be by myself; feeling blue. (Recently, however, when I was home alone, listening to music on my iPod, a polka came up on one of my playlists, and I found myself dancing around the living room.  Now that's not feeling blue, especially for an old guy with an artificial knee!)  I like saying "feeling blue" because it was a favorite phrase Gwen used  when describing her own sad moods.  Kind of old fashioned, I suppose, that word doesn't get used much anymore, more commonly we might hear the phrase "bummed out."  "Feeling Blue"also reminds me of the old song Blue Moon, and I can envision dancing with Gwen, feeling her close, smelling her hair, crushing our bodies together.  Ah  me. . .I wonder if kids dancing to the music of Lady Gaga get that same blissful feeling.

I looked out the window this morning when I awoke, and it was snowing.  Hmmm. . .I didn't exactly dress for this.  Then the sun shines and everything is better.

I'll return to this later; we are getting ready for a trip to Loveland where my daughter intends to purchase a new car.

--- Five hours later.  It was a fun afternoon.  First a nice lunch, then the ride to the car dealership.  Riding home with Jeanne and Izzy in her Mini-Cooper, seeing and hearing all the excitement about getting used to a new car for the first time in many years, was fun in itself.  And, of course, the new car smell.  We stopped for an ice cream cone, and on the way back to the car Izzy put her arm around my waist and walked side by side with me.  Those granddaughters just know instinctively what to do.  It was her way of telling me that she misses grandma too, and will take her place for a while.  Another of those moments when Gwen smiled on us.  The car dealership was in Loveland, and, coincidentally, this poem is kind of about the land of love:

WORDS THAT MUST BE SAID

Fifty years with

the girl of my dreams

taught me much

about life and love.

About life

she taught me that

words like please and thank you

are required in normal discourse,

and though they need not always

 be said

between lovers

we should be nice

and say them anyway.

About love

she taught me that

the words I love you

need not be spoken

in those quiet times

when love is a certainty.

And that is why

we always said them

at those precious times.

John A. Bayerl, April 23, 2011

Easter Sunday is tomorrow.  I will miss you, Dear, and I don't think I can keep busy enough to entirely avoid the pain. I have a couple thing for Nick and Izzy, and, of course, the Peeps.  You like that, I know.

One of the really nice things about the Internet Age in which we are living is the access I have to others, literally around the world, who are also grieving the loss of a spouse.  I've come across  superb writers in Canada,  Nevada, Washington  and  England,  and when I have their permission I will add their links to my blog.