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.

A Poem For Remembering

There is no doubt that things have been very sorrowful around my house.  Likely this is the way it will be for sometime.  My daughter is the only child I have living close by and she has been spending as much time as she can with me, bringing along her newborn little boy, Lennox.  Fortunately, Kevin got to meet little “Chippie” as he called him, and even hold him on a few brief occasions.  As I head up to bed tonight I found this poem that my daughter wrote from her son to me:

Lennox’s Poem©

 I know I be but little,

And there’s not a lot I know;

But I believe my place here

Is to help you grieve and grow.

 

I know our time was short,

And I’m sad granddad’s gone,

But I know he loved me very much,

And we shared a special bond.

 

Please look at me grandma,

Look me in the eyes.

As long as we have love

His legacy never dies.

It is a lovely little poem written from the heart.  I will cherish it (and consider it copyrighted) because it belongs just to me.  In our marriage I was lucky enough to have a husband who gave me gifts from the heart, and the tradition has carried on with my kids – all three of them.

Lennox’s Poem by K. Batchelor, © 2015.