Some nice things happened today. Gwyneth, my friend from the on-line bereavement group, who lives in Baltimore, paid me a visit with her three teenage children. Her daughter attended a softball camp at UM this week, and they are heading back home tomorrow. We chatted, ate pizza and got acquainted a little. I'll have to check the FB page later, there will be some pictures of our visit posted.
Later in the afternoon I played nine holes of golf at Brookside in Saline. It was busy, and a young man caught up with me and played along the last six holes. He is in his second year as a dental student at UM, and his mother is a guidance counselor in Adrian. She was widowed eleven years ago, and it was interesting to talk with her son about how she has adjusted. As he put it, "she's beginning to have fun again." Let's see; in 11 years I'll be how old. . .? Anyway, he was an absolutely delightful young man, and he could hit a golf ball a mile. As I was leaving a young couple arrived. My mind always takes me way back to when Gwen and I would enjoy doing things like that together. Now it seems like it all happened so quickly, but there were layers and layers of years of good times spent together. It's another of those things that I would never have anticipated would happen after Gwen's death--that incessant longing for a time in our life when love was all that mattered. It sounds kind of corny to say that, but the pain is real.
Yesterday morning, on my way home from my visit with Dave, I had breakfast at an Ann Arbor landmark, Angelo's Restaurant. Whenever Gwen and I had a meal there it was special and we really enjoyed it:
It's good to feel your presence, Dear, in all those places we enjoyed. You always knew the right thing to say.
Later in the afternoon I played nine holes of golf at Brookside in Saline. It was busy, and a young man caught up with me and played along the last six holes. He is in his second year as a dental student at UM, and his mother is a guidance counselor in Adrian. She was widowed eleven years ago, and it was interesting to talk with her son about how she has adjusted. As he put it, "she's beginning to have fun again." Let's see; in 11 years I'll be how old. . .? Anyway, he was an absolutely delightful young man, and he could hit a golf ball a mile. As I was leaving a young couple arrived. My mind always takes me way back to when Gwen and I would enjoy doing things like that together. Now it seems like it all happened so quickly, but there were layers and layers of years of good times spent together. It's another of those things that I would never have anticipated would happen after Gwen's death--that incessant longing for a time in our life when love was all that mattered. It sounds kind of corny to say that, but the pain is real.
Yesterday morning, on my way home from my visit with Dave, I had breakfast at an Ann Arbor landmark, Angelo's Restaurant. Whenever Gwen and I had a meal there it was special and we really enjoyed it:
BREAKFAST AT ANGELO’S
Alone in the sun room at Angelo’s
I enjoy the cheddar cheese and broccoli
omelet that she always ordered.
My server’s name is
April
the month when the miracle
or our love
was first spoken aloud.
A young family
enters my private space,
I pretend not to mind,
but I do
resent their intrusion
into my sacred place.
It’s OK for them to be here
she whispers in my ear;
eat your raisin toast.
John A. Bayerl, June 30, 2011
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