Yesterday, on Gwen's birthday, I tried to make the day a celebration--beginning with wishing her a happy birthday. I bought a helium filled balloon that said Happy Birthday! on it. At 7:40 a. m., the official time of sunrise, I took the balloon out the front door and released it. I watched it drift along over our house, then over the back yard, then across the neighbor's house and on over the neighborhood until it became a speck, and then I couldn't see it anymore. It was then that I came to the realization that although I couldn't see the balloon it was still out there--much as is the case with my sweetheart. Faith.
I wasn't finished. After attending the Mass at noon that was for Gwen's intention, where I sang in the choir better than I've sung before, I returned home and planted some flowers. Last fall Gwen and I planted some crocus bulbs; she always wanted to be able to see the first blooms of the spring. The four hyacinth bulbs that I planted yesterday will be a welcome reminder next spring. Hope. In a back corner of the yard there is a bare spot that Gwen always asked me to fill. It gets a lot of sunshine, so I planted a rosebush there. Roses played a special part in our courtship--when I look back there now and see the rosebush I am reminded of some very special times. Love.
Whenever we backed out of our driveway Gwen often said that we needed some yellow color in the flower bed; I planted a yellow mum there yesterday. When I left for lunch today I felt Gwen next to me, approving of how well the yellow mum complements the purple asters.
My day was made so much easier yesterday when each of our children called me. They knew it wasn't going to be an easy day for me, and were there for me. Their mother's love and concern for me lives on through them.
Today I had lunch with Dave McNeil, a chaplain for the Cancer Center for St. Joseph Mercy Hospital, where Gwen received all of her treatments. The very first time that Gwen went in for chemotherapy we were still in a state of shock and didn't know what to expect. That was when we first met Dave. He sat with us, and said, "So far, cancer has had you reeling; now we are going to circle the wagons and fight back." That became Gwen's mantra; it played a large part in the courageous battle she waged against cancer. Dave recounted how, even during her last days, Gwen always put others first, asking how they were doing before talking about herself. He also said that even today people in the groups he runs who knew her talk about what a great role model she was. It makes my heart feel better whenever I hear things like that.
We had lunch today at a new dining facility at the hospital and I had a California Salad. As the chef prepared the ingredients for the salad he included a large quantity of chunks of avocado. Immediately, I was reminded of how much Gwen loved avocados. It's always the little things. . .the picture of you on the beach that I posted yesterday is one of my favorites, especially the way you are drowning in the jacket I lent you to wear on a cold day at the ocean. You loved wearing my things.
I cried a little while I ate that salad today, Dear, you weren't there to enjoy it with me. I know you would have made me ask for even more avocado.
I wasn't finished. After attending the Mass at noon that was for Gwen's intention, where I sang in the choir better than I've sung before, I returned home and planted some flowers. Last fall Gwen and I planted some crocus bulbs; she always wanted to be able to see the first blooms of the spring. The four hyacinth bulbs that I planted yesterday will be a welcome reminder next spring. Hope. In a back corner of the yard there is a bare spot that Gwen always asked me to fill. It gets a lot of sunshine, so I planted a rosebush there. Roses played a special part in our courtship--when I look back there now and see the rosebush I am reminded of some very special times. Love.
Whenever we backed out of our driveway Gwen often said that we needed some yellow color in the flower bed; I planted a yellow mum there yesterday. When I left for lunch today I felt Gwen next to me, approving of how well the yellow mum complements the purple asters.
My day was made so much easier yesterday when each of our children called me. They knew it wasn't going to be an easy day for me, and were there for me. Their mother's love and concern for me lives on through them.
Today I had lunch with Dave McNeil, a chaplain for the Cancer Center for St. Joseph Mercy Hospital, where Gwen received all of her treatments. The very first time that Gwen went in for chemotherapy we were still in a state of shock and didn't know what to expect. That was when we first met Dave. He sat with us, and said, "So far, cancer has had you reeling; now we are going to circle the wagons and fight back." That became Gwen's mantra; it played a large part in the courageous battle she waged against cancer. Dave recounted how, even during her last days, Gwen always put others first, asking how they were doing before talking about herself. He also said that even today people in the groups he runs who knew her talk about what a great role model she was. It makes my heart feel better whenever I hear things like that.
We had lunch today at a new dining facility at the hospital and I had a California Salad. As the chef prepared the ingredients for the salad he included a large quantity of chunks of avocado. Immediately, I was reminded of how much Gwen loved avocados. It's always the little things. . .the picture of you on the beach that I posted yesterday is one of my favorites, especially the way you are drowning in the jacket I lent you to wear on a cold day at the ocean. You loved wearing my things.
I cried a little while I ate that salad today, Dear, you weren't there to enjoy it with me. I know you would have made me ask for even more avocado.
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