Showing posts from August 18, 2013

Widow Talk - Touch of bitter with that axe?

Tonight I used my scrubbing steamer mop. Why the big deal?
Because my David loved using this machine and I have not been able to use it in well over a year, for knowing that his hands held that handle. He loved the noise, and the steam, and the way he could move it so easily. I loved watching him use it.

See, that's the thing, each thing can be a big thing. Some of them you avoid, some hit you in the face with a hot nail load of emotions and some things you just notice you are doing again. Like, I swam in a pool when I got hot, like David did. I thought, wow, you are right - it is refreshing to cool off. Stupid little things, internal conversations that go on and on.

This post is not a complaint, I'm just pointing something out, and trying to make myself realize that this widow malarkey, still takes it's boring toll on me. I keep saying, come on Jayne, its over a year now. It can't still be difficult to drive down to Dartmouth can it? Yet here is my statement. I lost …

loved with boldness

She loved with a boldness that was invented only by her.
He remembered it, in a whisper from another
Or the flick of auborn hair
A voice, like hers, but not.
He would turn and again be disappointed to find
She was not there.
For love is so rare, that in a beat it is everlasting
Or gone.
A womans hand is poised, placed downward
He knew it wasnt hers
For hers was always open
Waiting for another.