My Love

My Love

If my light starts to flicker, don’t make me stay.

If my heart can’t keep beating, then let it away.

A subtle smell or sound and my sorrow consumes me.

Memories flood of life changed, a soul now set free.

I am tired and lonely and my mind deceives me;

What I want is not, and what is not can’t be.

So I grieve, while I hope, for simple mercy my way;

And I rest, but not sleep, to pass yet one more day.

Kevin used to call me “my love.”  After work he’d say, “Come out on the deck and have a cup of tea with me, my love.”  Precious words made more precious with time.  I wrote the lines above a couple of weeks after he died, at a time when I didn’t care if I ever woke up.  I found them today as I looked through my journal.   Perhaps words can transcend time, they certainly can withstand it.  In a sense they can deliver immortality, a comforting thought for me anyway.

Tomorrow is two months since Kevin died; a measure in time of something that can’t be measured.  Try to put a value on a person’s life, then try to imagine how precious the memories are that you have created with that person.  This is my dilemma, I’ve lost the flesh and blood; all that is left is intangible.  Thoughts and memories are things that are but are not at the same time.

These are the types of things I worry about. What if I start to forget? I don’t ever want to forget.

Any thoughts or experiences to share? Leave them here.

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