Bob my neighbor is in his 80s,

on garbage day I get his cans

from the street,

walk them up the driveway

between his house and mine.

I pass the window in the room

where I sat with my love

as she departed this earth—

and I see her soul fly

out of that window

white and wraith-like

as it did that night in November

when temporal love became eternal.

Many who read these words

will give me that look,

you know the one,

they know better

say it’s just my imagination,

and they will be right—

except it’s so much more to me

personally

and that makes it true.

Last week for one brief moment, as I lay in the hospital waiting for a doctor to push a fiber optic wire through my arteries into my heart, I suddenly realized that there is a certain amount of risk involved when someone pokes around in your heart with a wire.  And I thought, "gee, maybe I'll see Gwen again, sooner than I thought."  When it was all over, the doctor informed me that I can expect to live a long healthy life, unless of course I get run over by a truck.  The point is, there is no fear of death when someone who made your life complete is   dead.  That changes everything; as life becomes less of a commodity to be treasured and more of an opportunity to do whatever it is that one is able to do to make it matter as it mattered that Gwen lived and enriched my life beyond anything I might have expected.  

It's a sunny Monday in March, Dear, the kind of day when we would have enjoyed a walk around the neighborhood or even Gallup Park.  As Bruce Springsteen said: "If I should fall behind; wait for me."  And I know you are waiting.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSAevK9__3k