Today we would have been married for 34 years. Instead we were married for 28 years. For six years I have been a widower. I feel I am married still. I feel I am alone. It is a wonder I feel. That is good. Or not.
None of this matters. All of it matters. It is time and matter. It just is. Or was. Ashes in a box. Today the emotional flailing is limited to events like this or to memories that creep up and slap my consciousness.
May 15, 2017 I will scream into the void imaging a romantic anniversary dinner and a gift I carefully selected for Donna. The card would read: “Bug, can you believe it’s been 38 years? Some years were hard all the years amazing. Marrying you and loving you remains the center of my life. Love, Mark”
Bob Dylan
“Forever Young”
May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.
