My attempts to treat today as just another day have had mixed results. I played golf all morning, and then this afternoon wrote some thank you notes. It all fell to pieces when I looked up addresses on the list Gwen had so meticulously prepared and kept updated--seeing her handwriting and all the funky little ways she had for keeping the list accurate was simultaneously uplifting and heartbreaking. How could I not dwell on the fact that today is our wedding anniversary? How could I not recall our year-long wait for the magic date, June 8, to arrive; how often we wrote about it in our letters, talked about it when we were alone? How could I not remember how beautiful she was, not just on that long-awaited day in June, but everyday thereafter? How could I not remember playfully telling her that her anniversary gift would be the same as the one she received last year, and the year before, and the year before. . .?
Gwen saved the anniversary cards we exchanged over the years. On our 40th anniversary my card to her began with these words, "Once upon a time two people met and fell in love. . .", and concluded withe these words, "I love what we've made together. . .I love you." The words I added were, "Forty years ago was the best and happiest day of my life."
On our 45th anniversary Gwen gave me a card that had this verse from 1 Corinthians 13: 7-8:
Love bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.
Love never ends.
She ended with these words, "Love, Gwen XXOO I can't believe it!" This was in 2008, more than two years after her original grim prognosis of six to nine months.
Yes, there are tears today, and memories of past tears. Gwen told of how her Aunt Stella, one of my favorite people, cried each time she talked about our impending wedding. In the days leading up to June 8 Gwen promised that if she cried on our wedding day, as she did, it would be tears of joy. "I'm bursting with tears!" she said.
This is a poem about tears of joy that I've been working on for a long time. It is quite precious, even sacred, to me:
TEARS AND ALL THAT FOLLOWED
Written in a letter long ago
at the beginning
of a love that would grow
and sustain me to this day.
J ust an ordinary love
by your tears,
when you said the words
that allowed
me
to enter your world
you.
of trusting abandonment,
making joyful our joining
and all that was to follow.
Gwen saved the anniversary cards we exchanged over the years. On our 40th anniversary my card to her began with these words, "Once upon a time two people met and fell in love. . .", and concluded withe these words, "I love what we've made together. . .I love you." The words I added were, "Forty years ago was the best and happiest day of my life."
On our 45th anniversary Gwen gave me a card that had this verse from 1 Corinthians 13: 7-8:
Love bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.
Love never ends.
She ended with these words, "Love, Gwen XXOO I can't believe it!" This was in 2008, more than two years after her original grim prognosis of six to nine months.
Yes, there are tears today, and memories of past tears. Gwen told of how her Aunt Stella, one of my favorite people, cried each time she talked about our impending wedding. In the days leading up to June 8 Gwen promised that if she cried on our wedding day, as she did, it would be tears of joy. "I'm bursting with tears!" she said.
This is a poem about tears of joy that I've been working on for a long time. It is quite precious, even sacred, to me:
TEARS AND ALL THAT FOLLOWED
When you cried,
it made me love you more.Written in a letter long ago
at the beginning
of a love that would grow
and sustain me to this day.
by your tears,
when you said the words
that allowed
me
to enter your world
you.
Tears not of sorrow
but of opening and easing,of trusting abandonment,
making joyful our joining
and all that was to follow.
John A. Bayerl, May 1, 2011
Happy Anniversary, Dear, in your words, always and forever.
1 comment:
Sometimes, you simply can't be busy enough; grief taps you on the shoulder much like an impatient child demanding your attention.
No going over it, no ignoring it, and going under is not an option. You simply need to acknowledge what is inside and walk with it to get through it. Something you must do on your own and know that those who know this pain are waiting for you on the other side.
Post a Comment