My friend Ed had an early tee time for us today. A friend of one of his daughters was with him, so I was paired up with a young man who taught elementary school in Ann Arbor last year. His wife just completed a PhD in economics, and they are moving to Massachusetts where she has a position at one of the colleges there. He was easy to talk with, and I enjoyed spending most of the morning with him. There were still many moments when I missed Gwen tremendously: it was a somewhat rainy morning, but a cooler, wind made it pleasant nonetheless. Keeping busy is the key for me right now.
Shortly I will leave to pick up my grand-nephew, Sam, and drive to Detroit for a Tiger game. I'll complete this when I return; late as it may be.
It's pretty late; I've just returned from the ball game with a hodge-podge of thoughts, memories and emotions. Sam and I saw an exciting and dramatic game that the home-team Tigers won in the late innings. Sam was introduced to the wonders of "Papa Grande," the Tigers' closing pitcher who has a flair for the dramatic. Having Same with me and seeing him get all excited about the game added to the enjoyment. At one point I looked over at Sam and remembered that the last time Gwen had been with him was two years ago at his high-school graduation party. He entertained with his guitar at the party, and Gwen was taken by how well he played. She was always quite fond of him. So, in a way, me being at the game with him tonight brought things full circle. She certainly approved of my being there with him.
On the way home from the game we took the same route that Gwen and I would take the year before she died when she sought some last-resort measures at the Karmanos Cancer Institute in downtown Detroit. Such warm memories of just riding along, holding hands, feeling hopeful, love in action. Then, I came home to the house with the "candle" burning in the window of the room where she died. . .It is still so hard to reconcile those realities.
You were with me all the way tonight, Dear, I'll rest well, feeling your presence.
Shortly I will leave to pick up my grand-nephew, Sam, and drive to Detroit for a Tiger game. I'll complete this when I return; late as it may be.
It's pretty late; I've just returned from the ball game with a hodge-podge of thoughts, memories and emotions. Sam and I saw an exciting and dramatic game that the home-team Tigers won in the late innings. Sam was introduced to the wonders of "Papa Grande," the Tigers' closing pitcher who has a flair for the dramatic. Having Same with me and seeing him get all excited about the game added to the enjoyment. At one point I looked over at Sam and remembered that the last time Gwen had been with him was two years ago at his high-school graduation party. He entertained with his guitar at the party, and Gwen was taken by how well he played. She was always quite fond of him. So, in a way, me being at the game with him tonight brought things full circle. She certainly approved of my being there with him.
On the way home from the game we took the same route that Gwen and I would take the year before she died when she sought some last-resort measures at the Karmanos Cancer Institute in downtown Detroit. Such warm memories of just riding along, holding hands, feeling hopeful, love in action. Then, I came home to the house with the "candle" burning in the window of the room where she died. . .It is still so hard to reconcile those realities.
You were with me all the way tonight, Dear, I'll rest well, feeling your presence.
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