ME TIMES TWO

This has been another of those days when I've been able to keep busy doing things I enjoy.  That always helps.  The morning started with a Story Time Players presentation at Ann Arbor Open Elementary School.  We're doing one more presentation in a week or so and then we'll be done for the summer--I'm going to miss those people. Right after I finished that I drove to the restaurant where the bereavement group I attended earlier this year has monthly reunions.  I am thankful that I've become friends with a lot of them, I wasn't sure that would happen initially.  We've gotten relaxed with each other, and no topic of conversation is off limits.  It's unique in that we share a common experience that gives us kind of a meta-language that makes it easy to communicate. When I got home from there I had an interesting telephone call that I'll talk more about later when I know more.

This afternoon I had another voice lesson.  She continues to be so patient and encouraging with me.  I have no illusions about my ability as a singer, but it's been fun to learn a lot about music in such a pleasant way.  It's part of the mentality that I think those of us who grieve have to subscribe to-- we can be busy living, or we can be busy dying.  I know what Gwen expects from me and, and it is fun to be doing something new, even at my age.

On the way home from the restaurant this morning this came to me, I hope it won't be misinterpreted:

ME TIMES TWO

Friends, relatives, acquaintances, neighbors,

ask me how I’m doing.

I think they want to know  

that I’m getting over the loss

of my beloved wife.

They know that their time is coming,

and they seek reassurance.

I tell them that I’m fine.

Some of them will ask

how I’m really doing,

and I say that they

don’t really want to know.

They insist.

So I tell them.

There are two of me,

the me I let you see,

that person is always fine.

The other me, the one

that only I see,

is fine most of the time,

but there are times—

there are times. . . .

John A. Bayerl, May 17, 2011

You've left an awful big hole in my heart, Dear, and I'll patiently continue filling it with things that are good for me for as long as it takes.  That's always been the deal, and I would expect the same from you if the situation were reversed.  As always, I continue to pray with confidence that the love we created and nurtured did not simply cease to exist at that moment when all the things we think of as so important became nothing more than background noise--you were hearing the real music.