SOMETHING I CAN DO

Gwen was on my mind a lot this weekend and today.  It's those feelings of wanting to see her, talk with her, feel her, hold her close; just have her here with me.  As the leaves begin to turn I remember that fall was her favorite time of year.  She said that the cooler weather made her peppy, and when Gwen was peppy there was no stopping her; it was the same attitude she took toward fighting cancer.

We especially enjoyed fall days at our cottage on St. Joseph Island.  The island is covered with maple trees. Gwen and I especially enjoyed the fall when their leaves turned brilliant yellow, orange and red. When the leaves fell on our property they ceased being things of beauty and were Gwen's sworn enemy. It does my heart good this morning as I see her helping me  rake leaves onto a large tarpaulin and haul them off into the woods.  That memory of her full of energy and rosy-cheeked is one I cherish; raking leaves with her was never a chore.  Then I would build a fire in the stove and we'd enjoy a cup of hot chocolate or maybe a visit with Carmen and Linda next door.

Those memories help me get through times like this:

SOMETHING I CAN DO

Tonight the house seems quieter and emptier.

I walk from room to room, talk to your pictures,

once again,

listen for your sweet voice,

long for the smell of your perfume,

kiss your image,

hold it close to my heart.

It’s something I can do.

John A. Bayerl, October 2, 2011

In a few days I'll be out raking leaves again, Dear.  I'll try, but it won't be as much fun as when you were there helping me.