TIME

We walk in eternity

together—

you where time is no more

I where time is measured

by teardrops.

Do you also weep

for me

during that blink of an eye

until we meet again?

Trusting in hope

eternal

 we walk

side by side

where time is all

I have.

John A. Bayerl, January 23, 2012

It's a foggy, chilly, rainy Monday morning.  How could one not be in a reflective mood?  It feels good to be back home.  My day didn't start off well.  Water was leaking from under the sink; the garbage disposal had sprung a leak.  Replacing it is one of those things like putting new tires on a car; not much to show for it but the peace of mind that comes with knowing things are in their proper order.  Gwen had a good philosophy about this sort of thing; get it fixed right away and do it right. I called a plumber, we now have a  new disposal.

Yesterday, on impulse, I bought a bouquet of roses, remembering how much Gwen liked them: today they look so bright and pretty on an otherwise dismal day.  Hope does spring eternal.  

This is another of those mornings, Dear, when I so wish  you  were here, by my side. On my way home from the U. P. I stopped for a cup of coffee at the Mc Donald's at The Bridge.  There was a woman in line ahead of me who looked like you.  For just a moment, my mind was flooded with thoughts of sitting with you and enjoying a cup of coffee, as we so often did.