My Beloved Is Not With Me Anymore

[enna]

Thank you, Kay - I'm glad you watched all the videos. I think I mentioned to you that my last few hours with my Jim was spent in listening to 'Symphony in White'. He was not able to talk and I think had little vision but his eyes told me that he was listening. And during those moments I was not sad I just felt that it was a very sacred time. Anne

[enna]

NATS,

Thank you for the personal message - that is one of my favorite songs 'Until We're Together Again' - I'm trying to believe. I'm happy you liked the video I chose for you. Anne

[enna]

My journal post on 9/24/2012

Tomorrow is the 4^th month anniversary of your death my Love.

The pain stabs at my heart. I miss you so – I cry and cry and ask why knowing that it really wouldn't matter even if I did have the answer so I'm just trying to accept – it's really not working for me yet – if only I could spend just a few minutes with you – there are so many things I need to know – are you all right – did you have pain that we were not aware of – did you know my heart was breaking those last weeks as I smiled every time I looked at you – you could not speak with words but did you know that I read your eyes and I knew that they were telling me that you loved me – I told myself that you were ready to give up this fight of Alzheimer's disease that we struggled with together for five years – did you hear me tell you that it was ok to go – there was a calm in our room as you slipped away – thank you for letting me be with you - I felt so privileged to bathe you for the last time – did you feel my hand on your face – did you feel my kiss – my arms around you for the last time – I knew you were gone – I felt such a pain – and then there was peace – I don't know where that came from – My love, this grief is something I would not want you to go through – I am on such a painful journey - I feel so alone – I know there are people who are on this same journey – people who have been where I am right now – I don't look forward to this journey but I know I have to take it - family and friends stay away – It doesn't matter - I will survive this because this is what you would want for me – I am not the same – but I hope I will come out of this as someone you knew during our forty years of marriage. I love you.

Fred, our grand-dog beagle for those who don't know, is here with me for a week. The kids went up to Washington State and then into Canada for a short holiday. I know that Fred is missing you. Were you aware that he climbed right up in the bed when he came over to visit those last few days? He's staying close to me and moves from room to room with me. This gives me comfort.

Once again, I'll go to bed tonight and hug the pillow tight knowing that you have your arms around me. Tomorrow is another day. Your Anne

[mfh]

Oh, Anne, I do know. Your journal entry could have been written by me. I can feel your pain (and my own) as I read your entry. The painful journey through Alzheimer's, the silent communication with eyes toward the end, holding him as he died, the dog clinging, the feeling of being so alone and well...everything you wrote. I do understand this loss and pain and the journey through it. It is gut wrenching. I am attaching something I wrote to Bill a couple of months before he died but too late to share with him and am not sure I ever shared it here but here it is. I know you can relate to it. It does get easier but does not go away. Just too much lost. You are still so very raw. Thinking of you today. Peace, Mary written a few months before Bill died (2).pdf

[enna]

Thank you, Mary. I downloaded your letter to Bill and I'll respond after I read it.

I love your poem - beautifully expressed - how very appropriate "the disease of 10,000 good-byes" We should know.

I have no words to add just memories. Thank you for sharing. It helps me. Anne

[kayc]

What the two of you have written here is very poignant. Yes indeed, the disease of 1,000 goodbyes.

[mfh]

Anne, here is the picture of the bowl with its cracks filled in with gold. Lovely.

Mary

[enna]

Anne, here is the picture of the bowl with its cracks filled in with gold. Lovely.

Mary

Yes, Mary. I remember the bowl. And I still really like the quote.

Today I lit a candle remembering my Love's passing on May 25th. I reread your poem you wrote to Bill before he died. Memories sometime come back so clearly and painfully.

Today was a more peaceful day for me.

I put together a short thought titled Kaleidoscope of Grief. I'll post it later. Anne

[mfh]

Yes, Mary. I remember the bowl. And I still really like the quote. Anne

Me too. I love that quote.

Mary

[enna]

I received a PM today from a fellow griever and she suggested that I be more open about my feelings and pain with this group. I think we are all in the same dark hole crying out for the same attention. So we read something or share something and maybe someone responds with a touch of hope. For those of us who are so raw how do we even know what our feelings are – how do we know what to say about our pain? We hear that we should let the tears fall – don’t bottle up things that are inside – what do you do when you find yourself sitting still staring at a book that you thought you were reading – when the tears fall what is there to say but my heart is broken and I don’t know how I’m going to go on. How do you fix a broken heart? I know that I am not on this grief ride by myself. It has always been in my nature to nurture. When I hear that someone is in pain I am usually the one lending support, sharing my stories, offering an outstretched arm, giving encouragement. Over three decades as an educator I cried with my students, parents and fellow teachers. I never seemed to be without some words of encouragement. I have lost many who were dear to me over my almost seventy years but nothing has ever been so painful. I love my husband and don’t know what I’m going to do now that he is not here. I thought I knew about grief but I don’t. I ache, I hurt, and I have never felt this much pain. I cry, I’m sad, I’m pathetic. I don’t want this pain and I know, no one wants any pain - so here I am baring my soul to people I don’t even know. I am doing it because I feel safe. No one on this site is going to tell me to ‘get over it’. Why do people who you thought were you friends disappear? This is so painful that I don’t even know how to ask questions. All I can do is cry and hope someone, anyone hears me. Anne

[kayc]

Anne,

I am hearing you, and I get it. You are baring your soul quite well. Maybe the person who suggested that knows you are the kind that is always there for others and is afraid you won't feel the need for it to be reciprocal. I don't know why friends disappear...maybe they are afraid it is contagious...maybe they don't know what to say or do. It helps to be explicit about what you need from them. Our friends disappeared, as did George's family. It's seven years later and I still don't have a lot of friends, just a few. But I'd rather have a couple I can talk to than a whole bunch I can't. It'll all come together, in time. (((hugs)))

[mfh]

I agree, Anne, it is hard to know what our feelings are in the grief process and sometimes we do just stare blankly. I appreciate your sharing here the feelings you have and how devastated you are. Your words, "I thought I knew about grief but I don't" are the very words I said several months ago. I do not believe you are pathetic at all. I think all of us at one time or another have bared our souls to strangers here and those strangers over time become friends who reach out because of our common pain. I do not know why friends disappear except for their discomfort, fear and not knowing what to say. I do believe they still love you but are lost and just do not know what to do. It does make the journey harder and more lonely. I HEAR you and others hear you...and as alone as you feel...you are NOT alone...We are all with you as you share here and as you reach out to others as you do so well. Peace to your heart, Mary

[enna]

Kay, thank you for hearing. You have been an inspiration to me since I joined this web site. You have been so positive when I don't want to hear anything about positive right now. But as I said earlier I am so happy that your mother is finally settled in Sierra Oaks.

Nats, thank you for your continued support – the quotes are inspiring.

Mary, you asked me how it felt to be open with other grievers - perhaps I let my guard down a little today – I felt guilty for unloading MY grief on those who already had their own pain – I felt good to let others carry MY pain for awhile – I felt good that others were caring for me as I go through these downs. I felt more of a bond with those who opened up to me. I felt that I am being listened to without judgment. Yes, I do have a few friends who I share with person to person. I also have friends back in the Midwest who call and e-mail me. So I do talk to them openly. Bottom line is it is MY pain.

Today my grief feels like sand being dumped down my throat. I can barely breathe. I keep crying out for my Love to pull me away from this awful place I do not want to be. I know he would not want me to be in so much agony. I do not know if he knows I'm in so much pain. MY faith seems buried right now. This is so hard to think of one step at a time when the Love of my life is not with me anymore. I too am really grateful that he is no longer in his own pain. Only I did not know if he had pain – there was only silence the last days. Mary, we indeed are kindred spirits when it comes to the awful disease of ALZ. I am with you on your 30^th month of loss today.

I found Marty's post from 21 June 2011 – 'How Do You Help Someone Who is Grieving? Posted by Maureen Hunter on her blog Esdeer: Stepping Through Grief.' I think I understand now why people stay away. I like Esdeer's 30 Days: 30 Ways e-mails. Today's e-mail is titled: "The Needs of Those Who Grieve". How appropriate! I am wondering if there are only a few of us on line who are on this first year journey of grieving the loss of a spouse.

I think I know why I am so emotional these days. We had a beautiful Shamel Ash tree in our backyard. It was a favorite of Jim's. We planted it in 1999 when we had our home built. Once it matured it gave us much shade – a welcome relief in the AZ heat. This summer the tree died and so did my Jim. So the tears are pouring out not because of the tree but because of what the tree meant to both Jim and me. Is this what is meant by a 'trigger'? When the landscapers take it down this week I think I'll replace it with a weeping willow. Now isn't that silly? I'm 'crashing' over a tree! Anne

[mfh]

Anne, I am so glad you feel freer to share your pain here. I believe that when we are open, it helps others to be open so there is no call for guilt in letting others reach out to you. That is what we are about here, I believe.

As for the tree...you are crashing over all you lost...the tree is a symbol of what you had with Jim and what you lost when he began the downward trek to his death and when he died. Every day, if your journey was like ours, was another loss, another good-bye. The tree is a symbol of all of that pain and loss.

I got caught off guard today...a trigger if you will...with the 30 month...anniversary. I am more used to this by far but the pain is no less. Triggers can be anything that sets off the pain or brings it to fuller awareness. I remember one day when an Allegro Bay RV went past the house...just exactly like the one we spent two years in...I sobbed for a long time. That was not too long after Bill died. Another day, I reached for a coffee mug and the one I got was the one Bill brought me tea in so often. It was my mom's and he knew I loved it. Those are triggers. Anything can be a trigger..a thought, object, anything or a 2 1/2 year anniversary as today is for me.

So glad you found this group.

Peace....just one moment of it today

Mary

[kayc]

A trigger is a reminder, whether it be through memory, sight, sound, color, smell, taste, anything involving our senses that takes us back to something.

It is something that you lost the tree the same year as your husband. Maybe a weeping willow would be just the thing.

Anne,

I don't know if they know what we're going through or not...I find comfort that he knows and is rooting for me, but then on the other hand, I don't want him to know and be sad.

I am not always positive...in the early days I made so many mistakes, it really has been such a metamorphosis. It is not uncommon for our faith to be obliterated by our grief...mine was too, but now I think it's stronger than ever...just different. I had a sense that things will work out somehow, yet I don't know how, I don't know exactly what I'll have to go through before my life is over. But then I never did, I just thought I did. I thought George and I would live until we were old and then one of us would die and with any luck we'd go together. That didn't happen. But I've learned to take care of myself and be on my own and I've learned it's okay to be alone...preferable even to having the wrong person. There isn't another George out there, I know that, and I don't want to settle for mere pittances anymore, I'm okay alone, I'll continue my journey.

I think you have bravely opened up to us and you speak for all of us who have ever grieved, but most importantly, for yourself. You don't have to feel positive right now, you don't have to feel joyful, this is a whole lot to handle and just getting through the day is quite remarkable. You are a special lady and we're glad we get to know you.

[enna]

Kay - Thank you for your thoughts on what is a 'trigger'. I'm in a place right now where I believe that Jim liked that tree so much that he took it with him and is trusting me to plant just the right one so I can think of him every time I look out the dining room windows.Anne

[enna]

Mary,

yes Mary, I know what you are saying about the tree – I think I had an instant flash realizing that Jim was really dead! I'm not ready to admit it fully but it seems that my heart is starting to make it more real. It hurts and I cry. From what you shared it sounds like I'll be facing many more triggers!

Today I thought about being alone and being lonely. I'm not quite sure if I can explain the difference yet. Perhaps there will be something on Marty's links that will explain the difference. I like being by myself and having my space. I've always liked my alone time. Now all kinds of thoughts are entering my mind: am I going to be safe in the house, can I go out by myself at night, do I need to get an alarm system. These thoughts didn't surface when Jim was alive. It's unsettling to me now. The house is so quiet. I never minded the quiet when Jim was alive even when he was out of town for several days. I hope that this feeling of sadness isn't going to mean that I'm going to be lonely the rest of my life. I am not one to wallow in self-pity but I just don't feel like getting out and mixing with the world yet. This is probably not making any sense to anyone because it sure isn't making sense to me. Anne

[enna]

Tomorrow is going to be a movie day for me. And yes, I will be in my sweats as I learned from Maureen Hunter who wears pjs when she has "a deep need for restoration, for space and for solitude for a time."

I have always found movies to be a respite from anything ordinary I do. With my grand dog, Fred, next to me I'm going to enjoy the last day Fred and I have alone time before the kids return from their holiday.

I just pulled out "Under the Tuscan Sun." This movie seems to help when I get too self-involved. A few quotes that I think on are: "Because I'm sick of being afraid all the time." "Life offers you a thousand chances, all you have to do is take one."

"What About Bob" just makes me giggle and I do give myself permission to laugh just not very often.

Compassion heals. Thank you. Anne

Kaleidoscope of Grief

From enna

"Caring is letting things matter to us, including other people. It means

valuing their well being and acting with attention to their needs. When we

care about someone or something, we hold a consciousness of what

can harm them and what is needed for them to flourish. Acts of

kindness and words that let others know that we care. Our caring can

comfort another person even when neither of us has the power to

change a difficult situation."

From the Dalai Lama

My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.

Compassion Ballad

Melanie Anderson 5/20/04

I don t know what comes over me when someone is in pain

a light wells up in me to help I simply can't refrain.

To frightened souls a loving touch, a soothing word or two,

is comfort, though it isn't much it's offered by too few.

So strong is empathy in me I am compelled to aid

it is a wondrous thing indeed this feeling that God made.

for giving help is why we're here. My hand I'll lend each day.

Give Yourself a Gift Everyday

Today my gift is to accept peace

What is yours?

Simple Gifts – Yo-Yo Ma and Allison Kraus –YouTube

Letting Go

To let go doesn't mean to stop caring,

It means I can't do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off...It's the realization that I

can't control another…To let go is not to enable,

but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go is to admit powerlessness,

which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To let go is not to try and change or blame another,

I can only change myself.

To let go is not to care for, but to care about.

To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.

To let go is not to judge,

but to allow another to be a human being.

To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the out comes

but to allow others to affect their own outcomes.

To let go is not to be protective,

It is to permit another to face reality.

To let go is not to deny, but to accept.

To let go is not to nag, scold, or argue,

but to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,

but to take each day as it comes and cherish the moment.

To let go is not to criticize and regulate any one

but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To let go is not to regret the past,

but to grow and live for the future.

To let go is to fear less and love more.

Author Unknown

Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by

an encounter with another human being. Each of us owes the deepest

thanks to those who have rekindled this inner light. Albert Schweitzer

[Wifflesnook]

Dearest Enna

I am close to you in time after loss, in age, and in time I was together with my Pete. If you read all my postimgs you will see that almost withot exception they are shouts of misery and the replies have been so wonderful. Whe I came onto this forum I was so new to this grief and had no idea of what it was going to be like. Here i find somewhere with people who TOTALLY understand and don't spout trite answers like we sometimes meet outside. It's amazing how the warmth can come through words on the screen. My pain is so sharp and yet as I have said its still being suppressed by me as I float over it, not being able to truly acknowledge the huge loss I have sustained in losing my true soul mate. I am searching for contact with him, but as a somewhat cynical soul (ha a good word) I tend to look at things like contact from 'beyond' rationally and my first Impulse is always to doubt. But I need to feel that Pete hasn't completely gone. I totally relate to your post earlier. I think you shouldn't feel at this stage that you can't be open about how damaged you have been. From what you say you have been nurturing people all your life and that is wonderful, but now it's your turn to feel cherished in this caring place where there are people on the same path. Those further along help enormously. To me the most helpful remarks axknowledge that I will never be healed of this loss. How could I be? I have lost half of myself. When I met Pete I was only 20. Since then my life has been entwined with his. My personality has been moulded by his (and vice versa). We felt ourselves to be one person truly. Without him in the world I am like a tree struck by lightening and trying to carry on living. This metaphor seems appropriate in the light of your loss of your tree. You must plant another. Yesterday I walked the dog as usual and saw a rare raptor. I came back and looked it up and sobbed, looking at all our bird identification books and feeling incredibly lonely. No one to share it with. That was a trigger for me and they keep on coming. I wander through our house touching walls and door because he touched them and they must bear some mark that he did so. I run Pete's moth trap and talk to him as I look at the moths, identify them, record them, and release them as he did.

Well I must close here Anne but I feel so close to you in so many ways and am glad you opened up because by opening our hearts we do get comfort every time we do, in this wonderful community of damaged souls.

Jan

[mfh]

Mary,

yes Mary, I know what you are saying about the tree – I think I had an instant flash realizing that Jim was really dead! I'm not ready to admit it fully but it seems that my heart is starting to make it more real. It hurts and I cry. From what you shared it sounds like I'll be facing many more triggers!

Today I thought about being alone and being lonely. I'm not quite sure if I can explain the difference yet. Perhaps there will be something on Marty's links that will explain the difference. I like being by myself and having my space. I've always liked my alone time. Now all kinds of thoughts are entering my mind: am I going to be safe in the house, can I go out by myself at night, do I need to get an alarm system. These thoughts didn't surface when Jim was alive. It's unsettling to me now. The house is so quiet. I never minded the quiet when Jim was alive even when he was out of town for several days. I hope that this feeling of sadness isn't going to mean that I'm going to be lonely the rest of my life. I am not one to wallow in self-pity but I just don't feel like getting out and mixing with the world yet. This is probably not making any sense to anyone because it sure isn't making sense to me.

Good morning, Anne,

I think the awareness of the reality of our loss comes slowly. There are still days when I look at Bill's picture and say "this just can't be real" but I do know now that it is...it took a while for the shock and fog to lift. This is so new for you. I suspect triggers will happen the rest of my life...they happen pretty often now and the tears usually flow. I have gotten pretty good at ignoring them on the outside if I am with people who I call "not safe" to share my pain. I am able to table my response now. But I can't imagine them not happening forever, it is just that we are not as shocked by them most (not all) of the time. I have a friend whose spouse died 22 years ago and every once in a while she gets ambushed. Her marriage was not great and she does not deal with feelings the way I do so if she is an example of triggers in her life, I KNOW I will deal with them forever. I can't imagine ever NOT missing Bill...he was/is too much a part of me...one soul, two bodies is what it feels like.

The quiet house is a big issue. I never noticed it when Bill was alive. If he was home or not home the silent house was a non issue. I am just getting to the place where i can put music on.....I listen mostly to classical and most of what we have touches my soul so I listen to some new age stuff that is calming. I can't fathom listening to Mahler yet. Not sure I ever will. My eyes fill up just typing the name.

As for lonely the rest of your life...everyone is different. I KNOW I will miss Bill forever...until we are together again. I feel lonely for him even when I am with other people but that has gotten better recently. I think for me the key will be determining a passion that I can throw myself into and I am totally in the dark as to what that is right now. I KNOW it will be helping others have an easier time of it in some way. I think a passion, a real passion, will help alleviate some (never all ) of my loneliness or longing for Bill. Getting out with others will happen when YOU are ready. Maybe a quiet walk in the woods but a "safe" person as a start.

Your post makes total sense and I bet it makes total sense to everyone. Thank you for sharing yourself.

Peace,

Mary

[mfh]

Dear Anne,

I love your quotes. Listening to Yo Yo is fragile for me. Bill and I love Yo Yo and have many of his CDs. We also love/d Copland. So I let the tears flow as I listen to your post in the background. I also like the Schweitzer quote a lot.

Just for your info, Marty has a list of movies on her griefhealing.com site. I have watched more movies since Bill died than we ever watched together. The last several years, Bill could no longer track the stories in movies so we quit going and quit watching at home eventually. I would stop them at home and explain but it was just too much work for him. That is probably the Lewy Bodies part of his dementia. I subscribe to Netflix...there are many great documentaries on that and other movies, some just stupid stuff and I do watch those as they are mindless and sometimes I need to be mindless. It is just $9 a month. I do not get them delivered at home anymore.

I am having a pj day today except I have to walk Bentley twice so I am forced into clothes later!! After many days of too busy it feels great. I have a friend coming tomorrow...a good friend who is very safe. We are going to the Shakespearean Theatre in the Woods (www.playinthewoods.org) to see Royal Family. She will spend the night as she lives 60 miles away and we will sit up late and talk. She is a sculptor/painter who at 82 is in the midst of creating 26 life size bronzes for the park she started (www.mississippiriversculpturepark.com). She also painted an oil of Bill for me. We will freeze at the park as it is all outdoors in the woods. Bats fly overhead and whippoorwills call. I hope to work on my paint project this weekend. My instructor is assisting me with a series of watercolors...sort of a "joygriefjoy" series. The final joy being Bill's and my spirits reunited. It is in the fairly early stage and has and is demanding a lot of introspection as I journal and sketch and paint and throw them aside and start over again. I wish I could tap into my abilities more easily...I know they are there. It will take a year at least but it is cathartic. That and Bentley are the only things I have real interest in right now. Helping others is a given, however. When I did my own therapy years ago, I sculpted my way through the pain.

Enjoy your pj day and movies...and popcorn?

Mary

[mfh]

Dearest Enna

Yesterday I walked the dog as usual and saw a rare raptor. I came back and looked it up and sobbed, looking at all our bird identification books and feeling incredibly lonely. No one to share it with.

Jan, did you also check the symbolism of your raptor. I do not believe it was an accident that you came upon a rare raptor. I am not sure where you are regarding totem animals but i believe in them. I had a sharp shinned hawk in my yard last year...a long story but I consider this bird one of my totems when I consider the entire story of his being present and how vulnerable he was and how Bentley dealt with him. I am now in my studio/meditation room (with the fire going) and 4 mourning doves are sitting on the wire...that matters to me also. Just some thoughts.

Peace

Mary

[Wifflesnook]

I read your story of the hawk when I started on this forum. Yes, maybe it was a sign, though don't forget I live on a migration route in the middle of a bird sanctuary so rarities aren't so rare here! Isn't that YoYo May YouTube beautiful? I loved it and thanks Enna for sharing this. I wish I could get back into listening to music as we have so many CDs and good equipment to play it on. But I'm afraid it wil, be too powerful a trigger for me. We always listened together and I'm not sure I can cope with listening on my own. Our house too is sooo quiet Enna. I live in the country and its quiet anyway but now the silence is so strange. Music would be good and maybe I should try to listen. I know that Mary feels the same. We shared a love of Mahler and his music is so powerful I think I need to steer away from it. But the classical music we liked tends towards the slow and emotional kind. We also love folk music, African music, American country. But all these types were shared and I'm just nt sure if I can bear to listen.

When I meet friends when on walks I have become aware that I am talking too much - a sure sign of a person who lives alone. I must be careful about this. I don't want to be someone to avoid!

Jan

[kayc]

Anne,

That is too funny, because I like to stay in my pjs under my afghan when I need that comfort and centering time. My problem is my dog wants walked first thing in the morning so that requires me getting dressed, makeup on, and just getting going. Today I cheated and took my dog to the pen for a potty break, will walk him late. He knows the difference though and will bug me.

I enjoy reading the poems you share with us. Truly no one "gets it" like someone who's been there. The odd thing is that, while the triggers lessen in quantity over time, they still occur, and while we get better at coping with the loss and eventually adjust to many of the changes, we never ever stop missing our partner, it just doesn't go away. I have learned to live with the ache in my heart and survive in spite of the gaping hole it left.

[enna]

Hi Jan,

Thank you for liking Yo Yo Ma. . . I miss Jim so. And I do understand how hard it may be to listen to music right now. Quietness is very difficult for me also. It's not that I don't want to be alone with my thoughts – it's that I don't have anyone here anymore to share them with me. I so understand what you mean when you said: "When I meet friends when on walks I have become aware that I am talking too much - a sure sign of a person who lives alone .I must be careful about this. I don't want to be someone to avoid! " I felt the very same way when I saw my bereavement counselor for the first time here at the house and the first thing I told her was that I am a very private person and it's hard to draw me out. Well, she just sat down and waited and then the sentences started to pour out of me. We both had a good laugh. People will not judge us if they know our history and are a 'safe' friend. What we are going through is grief and not a psychiatric breakdown.

A poem I want to share with you:

It's a William Wordsworth quote –

Be still and know that I am elohiym (ruler, judge, true God) - Ps 46:10

When from our better selves we have too long

Been parted by the hurrying world, and droop,

Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired,

How gracious, how benign, is Solitude,

How potent a mere image of her sway;

Most potent when impressed upon the mind

With an appropriate human centre--hermit,

Deep in the bosom of the wilderness;

Votary (in vast cathedral, where no foot Is treading, where no other face is seen)

Kneeling at prayers; or watchman on the top

Of lighthouse, beaten by Atlantic waves,

Or as the soul of that great

Power is met sometimes embodied on a public road,

When, for the night deserted, it assumed

A character of quiet more profound than pathless wastes

I think this is a fitting quote for those of us who will always miss the loves of our lives:

"Distance never separates two hearts that really care, for our memories span the miles and in seconds we are there. But whenever I start feeling sad cuz I miss you I remind myself how lucky I am to have someone so special to miss."

― Henri J.M. Nouwen