After dinner I took great pleasure in dragging out the green garden hose and watering Gwen's Garden. I can already tell that it is only going to become more beautiful as the flowers grow and reach their full bloom, not only this year, but for years to come. Gwen's presence was very strong as I stood and admired the gift that Dick, Mary, Roy and Terri worked so hard to create in the heat yesterday afternoon.
That sense of Gwen's presence was also very strong and real as I drove home after taking Anne to the airport. Others I know who have lost a loved one tell me that their absence is often most noticeable in the car. It's not uncommon for me, at times like that, to reach over to her seat, pat her on the knee, remind her that I love her. It's hard to describe what that all feels like; for me, it's a peaceful sense of being off on another adventure with Gwen, in no hurry to get anywhere, mixed with the sadness that comes from knowing that those days are gone. This poem tries to capture a little bit of that mixture of feelings: