Second day of the year.

FIRST DAY OF THE NEW YEAR

The first day of the New Year

is no different than the last day of the old.

There is a new number

to put on the letters

I’ll never write

and the checks

I surely will.

Everything else

is pretty much the same:

the lingering smell of cookies

the familiar sound

of Christmas carols

lights twinkling

in the first snow of the year.

Then I think of the taste

of your sweet lips. 

The ache in my heart

throbs unceasing.

John A. Bayerl, January 1, 2012

That's what yesterday was like. 

 Today I miss Gwen in ways I haven't in a long time.  On a trip to Krogers, as I was walking in I was thinking about what I might get that Gwen would really like--then I remembered.  I bought some Spumoni ice cream anyway; Gwen's favorite.  I'll enjoy that later.

Family and friends help ease these feelings of longing and and loneliness.  I also wrote a poem about it.   Then, I called each of the kids.  I see Gwen in each one of them--the way she taught them to love and care for each other--and me.  Next,  I called Gwen's brother in Rock and talked to him and his wife, Jackie.  Then I called Gwen's sister in Gaastra; she wasn't home, but I had a nice conversation with Charlie, her significant other, and will call her later.  Another of Charlie's brothers died of lung cancer last Friday.  Damn cancer! 

 I find it comforting to maintain that link to the U. P. and to hear those Yooper accents.  The memory of  ham and perogies and Gwen's sweet presence as we went for a walk in the snow after the meal--hard to let that go.  

Feeling your spiritual presence is a poor substitute for your warm body in bed next to mine, Dear.  I'll keep honoring your wish that I continue living life to its fullest.  It seemed easier when you were sitting in a recliner talking with me about it.