When I awoke this morning I was delighted to remember that I had a dream with Gwen in it. She was in it, but I couldn't see her, she was somewhere in the background supervising things. The dream was about tearing up one of my flower gardens and completely replanting it. Some guy was there with some lilac bushes for me to plant and a lot of other flowers. So, it's a start. As time goes by I begin to realize that it becomes difficult to remember Gwen's face, voice, smile, touch, and smell. I pray for a dream where I will be able to experience once again what my beautiful wife was like in real life. Clearly last night's dream was about a topic that's been heavy on my mind; getting her garden started now that the nice weather is here, and she was there encouraging me.
Also today I visited again the cemetery where our grave sites are to see the newly placed gravestone. Most people don't normally do that in the course of a day--go visit a gravestone. I found it difficult, yet comforting. Cemeteries are an important reminder of what my son Mike said about death: "It is the most democratic thing there is." Sooner or later, everyone gets to participate. Seeing Gwen's name, date of birth and date of death carved into the stone was a reminder of a poem I found in her belongings and posted on February 7, 2011. It was called If You're Ever Going to Love Me. I mailed it to several friends and relatives, but I think it bears repeating, at least for me, having seen her name carved into stone today:
Also today I visited again the cemetery where our grave sites are to see the newly placed gravestone. Most people don't normally do that in the course of a day--go visit a gravestone. I found it difficult, yet comforting. Cemeteries are an important reminder of what my son Mike said about death: "It is the most democratic thing there is." Sooner or later, everyone gets to participate. Seeing Gwen's name, date of birth and date of death carved into the stone was a reminder of a poem I found in her belongings and posted on February 7, 2011. It was called If You're Ever Going to Love Me. I mailed it to several friends and relatives, but I think it bears repeating, at least for me, having seen her name carved into stone today:
IF YOU ARE EVER GOING TO LOVE ME
If you are ever going to love me,
love me now, while I can know
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
Found among Gwen’s belongings, January 5, 2011
The words we decided to have carved into the stone are I will find other seas, a line from a song that was sung at Gwen's funeral, Lord, When You Came to the Seashore. When our voyage in this life has been completed, we will indeed find other seas.
This reminded me too that on the day Gwen died I kissed her on the neck and whispered "I love you." As she always did, she whispered back, "I love you more." Thank you, Dear, for all these reminders of you today, and most of the tears were of the delicious variety.
3 comments:
I felt this post was more up-beat John and how lovely to dream of Gwen. You mentioned that you were finding it hard to remember Gwens face - place a large life size photo in your room and give it a kiss everyday. I go past my 'special' photo of H and give a real 'smacker' on the lips and have a little chat - Oh it does help. The thing I miss most is his adorable deep cultured voice but I am able to recall this well - thinking of words he used. Also I have saved a bottle of Hamada's always chosen french after-shave and I often take the stopper from that for a little reminder.
We must do all to comfort us as we recover - I like this little verse here - there is also a helpful one on my site today - of course you just need to change the he to she for your dear Gwen.
Blessings
Susie Hemingway.
What a full day ~ starting from the waking up of a beautiful dream ~ that is if you are pleased with the reminder to start Gwen's garden. By the way, Bill loved Lilacs - you think?
She will come to you in many ways John for you are open to it. Relish in the moments that she does and take her hand when you feel it.
We have (I should say "I have" or "We had" but I knowingly say "We have" and heck with it!) thousands and thousands of digital images -- I was the one behind the camera most of the time -- nicely arranged by date and subject. I continue to go through these images, recalling Carole as she was. Almost like a silent movie, the activities, playing with grandchildren, a group together, Carole by herself. Her face and funny moments. Then comes my great yearning, tears flow from my eyes, and I see her through those my wet eyes, blinking, leaning into the screen, clicking through more images. Oh, yes, she comes back! I am only ten days shy of three months since Carole died, February 20, 2011.
More than the images, though, I feel her with me all the time, when I am doing a chore, when I go somewhere, when I get the mail, anything, because I would normally relate something to her about what I did, big or small. It is that sharing of life that is now gone. Now I feel her presence and feel her absence, all at once.
Yours is an upbeat post -- I like it! You did not wait until the engraved stone, you shared while she lived. Apparent is such joy.
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