MOMENTS OF HOPE

MOMENTS OF HOPE

This morning

when I came in the house

the driveway clear of snow

I wanted you to greet me

at the door

with a little hug and peck on the cheek.

I know not to expect that

although I felt that moment of hope

all year long

each time I came in the kitchen door

from raking leaves

mowing the lawn

planting the garden.

That afternoon in November

I came in from golf

and you were there

patiently waiting

to say hello—

then goodbye.

Now you wait

on the shore of another sea

with a smile, a hug and a kiss on the lips.

John A. Bayerl, December 9, 2011

It's another of those Friday nights when memories of that Friday night in November when Gwen died come flooding into my consciousness.   This is always mingled with sweet memories of a year's worth of Friday nights when Gwen would greet me at the door of her home in Gaastra, with, as the poem says, a smile, a hug and a kiss on the lips.  In that moment there was no more waiting, only joy.  Now I find myself once again waiting with faith and hope, certain that one day Gwen will once again greet me with a smile, a hug and a kiss on the lips.  

This morning I shoveled snow for the first time.  I did get the snowblower out of storage and started it up, but the snow was light and fluffy and I cleaned it up with a snow shovel.  After that, I  went to a Mass that my friend Mary had said for the love of her life, Jim, who died on this day a year ago.  It always seems almost profane to just simply make a statement that someone died, especially when it's a friend whom I know well.  For Mary it continues to be a life-altering event.  We see with different eyes, hear with different ears when someone whom we dearly love dies.  It deserves more than a simple, matter of fact statement.  

When I got home I went to the gym.  While there, quite by accident, I met a young woman who works at a coffee shop where I sometimes stop.  She teaches figure skating at the Ice Cube, where my gym is.  This young woman has beautiful eyes that remind me of Gwen's, and each time I would see her at the coffee shop I would say, "I see you wore your beautiful eyes to work today."  It makes her day, she says.  We only chatted for a moment today, but it was not only endorphins that lightened my mood as I left that serendipitous meeting.  

I so wish you had been by my side, Dear, when I met this young skater, I don't even know her name, but she has that same wholesome beauty you have.  A nice addition to an otherwise melancholy day; to be reminded of the gift that you are to me.