Dear Lewis,
Today you are 64.

I picked the tulips to frame as they hold the dearest memories. I think I chose well.

It is a beautiful morning. The light is soft, just as you liked. Angles and colours, filtered by trees out the bedroom window. The curtains moving in a puff of air.

Year II

Ok so it has been awhile since I entered anything.
I thought I would try and see how long it would take until I talked with you again. Seems the day you ceased to exist. A day I helped to decide is the time I need to talk with you again.

It started with my awakening twice last night being strangled. A good way to capture my attention. Then the phone was tuned to your face twice. Then finally I heard you yelling at me to buy lotto tickets. I hate buying tickets. I hated that you spent so much money on losing. But I understood how much it was a part of the illusion that kept you going.

I saw the sun in a blur at sixish. I held your hand. I felt your warmth.

Roses are red
Violets are Blue
Lewis I still Love you.

Cosmic Justice

Today my sweet you would have been sixty three years of age. So Happy Birthday!

I think you tried to play a trick on me by skunking Boo at six this morning... I spent my morning washing away the odour.
Yes, I remember the skunk we had living under the porch in Mattapoisett. We fed him for three years. A very polite skunk, never a scent. Just a couple of frights late at night when we came home. The white streak humping around the back gate.
Anyway the cosmic joke on you, is that Boo still smells and he is sleeping under the bed next to you! HA


Still miss you every day.

24 years

Twenty four years ago at this time we were standing ready. Waiting for the last of the few people we had invited to join us. Though it would have made little difference if no one was there as we only had eyes for each other. The candles were lit. My shoes were new and slippery. You looked wonderful in your tails.
So as I write this I walked down the aisle to you and we listened to the minister say something...
We followed the words but spoke to each others hearts. We knew we were to be together until death parted us.
Last year at this time I could hardly breathe. This year I cried as I put on your robe. But the tears were fewer. I still miss you. I still wonder why?
I remain blessed in knowing you and being part of your story.
I do.

Revival

Happily the Bleeding Heart I planted for you last year has bloomed.

Prajnaparamita Sutra

Gone,gone
to the other
shore...Knowledge crosses from this side going
to that phenomenal world, that other
bank of perfect
wisdom.