Today has been cloudy, cool and rainy day; the kind of day that Gwen and I would enjoy because we could stay indoors and read, talk, not be in a hurry about anything--a well-deserved lazy day. Missing her and that unexpected, informal intimacy certainly adds to the melancholy feelings a day like this can bring. I was glad to get out of the house in the morning for a dentist appointment--imagine that, happy to see the dentist as a distraction. Actually, I do enjoy meeting with my dentist; he and I have been seeing each other for many, many years. He is an avid fisherman, and always has interesting stories to tell and pictures to show me. Most of the day after that I spent playing with my printer/scanner and learning how to do marvelous things with old pictures. RTFM doesn't mean anything to me; when I read a technical manual none of it make sense; I'm far better able to learn how to use technology by fooling around with it until it works the way it is supposed to. Then, of course, the problem is in having to remember just what it was that I did. Sigh. . .
This evening I did some grocery shopping, and became engaged in conversation with the young woman at the checkout counter. The guidance counselor in me never goes away, and I asked her whether she was a college student. She told me that she had recently graduated from college, and I immediately said, "liberal arts." She laughed, and said that yes, she majored in creative writing. I then told her about this blog, and she asked me to send her a link to it, which I will do. The best part of that whole encounter was when, after paying for the things I had purchased, the cash register lottery rewarded me with a coupon good for $5.00 off my next shopping venture at that store. I promptly handed it to the young woman who was unloading her cart behind me. She thanked me, saying that, as a college student it meant a lot to her. It doesn't cost a lot to be nice; Gwen didn't like me giving away free money, but in her heart she was always proud of me when I did things like that.
This is a poem I wrote for you this morning, Dear:
This evening I did some grocery shopping, and became engaged in conversation with the young woman at the checkout counter. The guidance counselor in me never goes away, and I asked her whether she was a college student. She told me that she had recently graduated from college, and I immediately said, "liberal arts." She laughed, and said that yes, she majored in creative writing. I then told her about this blog, and she asked me to send her a link to it, which I will do. The best part of that whole encounter was when, after paying for the things I had purchased, the cash register lottery rewarded me with a coupon good for $5.00 off my next shopping venture at that store. I promptly handed it to the young woman who was unloading her cart behind me. She thanked me, saying that, as a college student it meant a lot to her. It doesn't cost a lot to be nice; Gwen didn't like me giving away free money, but in her heart she was always proud of me when I did things like that.
This is a poem I wrote for you this morning, Dear:
FEELING ALL ALONE
I lie here in my bed at 6:32 a. m.
feeling yet again how all alone
all alone can feel.
Your remembered sweet voice comes to me,
asking my plans for the day;
I tell you that I have no idea
what today may bring for me
except that, whatever it is,
it will surely involve missing you.
John A. Bayerl, September 7, 2011
Life was so good then.
2 comments:
What a lovely post, John. Your generous spirit was shining in that store today and Gwen would definitely be proud of you.
Your poem speaks loudly and I hear it ... I feel it. I would like to share it over at Widowed Village if you don't mind. I know it will speak to many there, too.
How truthful your poem here John. Telling a story for so many of us. Keep strong and all positive wishes from across the pond.
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