This morning I played golf by myself. Sometimes I like doing that, just being out by alolne. Today was a bit more sorrowful, I had this nagging feeling that Gwen should be there with me, enjoying herself and the warm summer weather. In a way, I suppose it is selfish of me to feel that way; if she were somehow back with me, maybe she'd much rather be out shopping or at a movie. All I know is that I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me how much I miss her. It's a lot!
It cooled off quite a bit today, and I was able to get out to mow the lawn this afternoon. After all the rain, now it's gotten real dry, and I almost feel like turning on the sprinkler system. I can hear Gwen saying, "Pay to water and fertilize the lawn so that you can use gas that cost $4.00 a gallon to mow the grass so that you can water and fertilize it again. Doesn't make much sense to me, John." All I could ever weakly reply was, "Curb appeal; maintain the value of the property." "Then maybe you ought to wash the windows," she would say. Gotcha! She was so good at that, cutting through all the nonsense and getting to the heart of things. We balanced each other so well; she was the first to admit that she wasn't much of a poet.
This has been another of those days when all four of our kids checked in with me. Gosh, they are good that way; they knew that yesterday was pretty tough.
In line with the sentimental feelings I've had about Gwen all day today, this poem seems to capture some of that:
Three men sit on couches near the piano,
where live elevator music is played
for the patrons of the fancy department store.
The younger man looks boredas can be, fiddles with his keys.
The middle-aged one has that
resigned look, wishes he were golfing.
The older guy, like me, has excitement
in his eyes as they follow his wife
smiling, waving at him down the escalator.
when the one left behind
may not sit on those soft couches
while the piano man plays Sentimental Journey;
does not gaze at the escalator,
waiting for his heart to leap
when she finally appears.
John A. Bayerl, June 4, 2011
This morning, just before I awoke, I had a dream where I saw you in the room, looking at me and saying something, Dear. I didn't hear what you were saying, but the smile on your face was as beautiful as I ever knew it to be. Just for an instant, but what a precious moment that was.
It cooled off quite a bit today, and I was able to get out to mow the lawn this afternoon. After all the rain, now it's gotten real dry, and I almost feel like turning on the sprinkler system. I can hear Gwen saying, "Pay to water and fertilize the lawn so that you can use gas that cost $4.00 a gallon to mow the grass so that you can water and fertilize it again. Doesn't make much sense to me, John." All I could ever weakly reply was, "Curb appeal; maintain the value of the property." "Then maybe you ought to wash the windows," she would say. Gotcha! She was so good at that, cutting through all the nonsense and getting to the heart of things. We balanced each other so well; she was the first to admit that she wasn't much of a poet.
This has been another of those days when all four of our kids checked in with me. Gosh, they are good that way; they knew that yesterday was pretty tough.
In line with the sentimental feelings I've had about Gwen all day today, this poem seems to capture some of that:
ONE FOND MEMORY
Three men sit on couches near the piano,
where live elevator music is played
for the patrons of the fancy department store.
The middle-aged one has that
resigned look, wishes he were golfing.
The older guy, like me, has excitement
in his eyes as they follow his wife
smiling, waving at him down the escalator.
when the one left behind
may not sit on those soft couches
while the piano man plays Sentimental Journey;
does not gaze at the escalator,
waiting for his heart to leap
when she finally appears.
This morning, just before I awoke, I had a dream where I saw you in the room, looking at me and saying something, Dear. I didn't hear what you were saying, but the smile on your face was as beautiful as I ever knew it to be. Just for an instant, but what a precious moment that was.
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