September 8, 2007 - 12:32 PM - St. Paul, MN - From My Journal

Keys Cafe on Robert Street.

Sitting after the Farmer's Market. The first hint of Fall pierces my heart. This is the season that brings you closest to me.

How many hand-in-hand at the Market Saturday mornings did we have? How many Keys' breakfasts? This day, I ate spinach omelette (some things do not change). I left the little pot of homemade berry jam untouched and remembered how you gleefully smeared every speck of it on your toast.

How many crystal blue sky days with a tinge of scarlet and orange did we walk and talk through? The crisp of the Fall - the underskirt of summer's last party dress, warm and sunny. It brings deep longing to my heart - and gratitude for memories so sharp and sweet.

I miss you - just that.

Tomorrow - the anniversary of our wedding day - Tomorrow.

Forever in my heart ----- my husband, my soul mate, my friend, my guardian angel.

I will love you for eternity. You said, "throw off the veil of death and live your transformed life." And so I shall. But, forever, forever --- there will be the days of rememberance - walking hand-in-hand in the crisp autumn air. I love you.

What Was Isn't

Tomorrow is the anniversary of Tom's birth - not his birthday. Hard to celebrate the birthday of a dead person - but tonight he and I (his picture anyway) are commemorating the date with a perfect, cold Sapphire Martini with bleu cheese olives and a lemon twist. The appetizer is a wedge of Rogue River Blue cheese, aged 12 months in grape leaves, spread on a warm multi-grain roll.

The asparagus, which is now roasting in the oven in extra virgin olive oil and kosher salt, will be dressed with a squeeze of lemon. The main course is roasted center cut of King Salmon with microgreens splashed with walnut oil and pear balsamic vinegar. The wine selection is yet to be made.

Making peace with what was and what isn't is a major task of the grief journey.

Today as I did Tom's favorite spring yard chores, I tried my best to recall what we did together on his last birthday, when he was still in his body. I could not remember. For a bit it made me crazy (rake those leaves, carry that mulch, muscle that hose reel up the hill) and then I just relaxed. Life is mysterious -- what was, isn't and what is - IS.

I am here, I am alive, I am walking my life's path for as long as I am to do so. Life is more meaningful since Tom died - coming to terms with death is enormous - we are all born to die - until then we get to have birthdays and until then one of our earth tasks is to live right here in this moment - it is the only one we really have.

I raise my glass - here's to you Tom - what a gift your life was to so many. Your love lives on right here!

ps I know I probably cooked steak that last birthday for you - but tonight salmon sounds perfect.

More to come tonight...........