Monday, July 19, 2010

I wear his watch...

...on my left wrist.
I sit in his place at the kitchen table, so I don't have to look at his empty chair.
I drink coffee from his favourite cup in the morning. The cup I used to bring him in hospital, to make him feel a little bit closer to home.
I carry his wallet in my purse.
I sleep in one of his t-shirts.

Over these past weeks, whenever I went to Tim Horton's I would buy a coffee for me and a coffee for him (double-double). Back home, I'd sit under the oak tree in our backyard where I have a candle burning to light his way. I'd carry on a conversation with David while sipping my own coffee. Then I'd pour his under the tree. I just could not bring myself to buy only one coffee. I had to buy David his coffee too. Even my children when coming to visit would bring me a coffee and one for David. It became a ritual; pouring David his coffee under the tree, so he would get it wherever he is.
But now I don't need to pour his coffee under the tree. When I sip my coffee, I feel we are sipping together, as if we are one.
Am I losing my grip on reality?

Maybe..... but I feel him....close to me.
Our love is our connection. Our bond. Our bridge from one world to the next.

David loved pens. There are oodles of pens in his desk drawers. Pens sitting in a coffee mug on a shelf next to the telephone. Pens in every pocket of every jacket. Pens lying on the surface of every coffee table in our home. When David and I would go shopping (that seems light years ago now) to a stationery store like Staples, he would head straight for the pens.
"David, don't you think we have enough pens? We must have a hundred or more at home. Why are you looking at more pens?" He'd just smile and head on over to that department anyway, leaving me to pick up whatever we had initially come into the store to buy.

I am sitting in the notary's office (here in Quebec, we use notaries rather than lawyers for real estate transactions, estate management, etc.) a few days after David's passing. His son-from-out-of-town was there too. As was my financial advisor. I was asked to sign a document. Opened my purse and started rummaging inside. No pen. I knew I had one in there. I always carry a pen with me. Looking up, I noticed that everyone was looking about for their pens. Nobody could find one. Finally, the very red-faced financial advisor stepped outside to ask his secretary for a pen.

Ha - I think David had hidden everyone's pens.

Three days ago, I was down by the lake where his ashes had been scattered. It was very peaceful with sailboats on the water, cool breezes caressing my face, ducks swimming among the rushes close to shore, and blue blue skies. I walked for a bit and then sat down on a rock under a willow tree.

After a while, I headed back through the grassy field towards the road where I'd parked my car. A melody floated through my head.
....let's go down to the river to pray.....

Oh, did I come here to pray? Hmmm. Maybe I should.
The morning of David's passing, I kept hearing a voice in my head saying "call the priest." So I asked the nurse to call him. When the Father arrived, he asked me to join him in saying the Lord's prayer.

That prayer came back to me as I walked that grassy field towards the car. And when I had finished, I looked down on the ground, and saw.....
lying in the grass...
a pen!

39 comments:

mxtodis123 said...

Oh, Wendy, I don't know what to say. The pen lying in the grass gave me goosebumps. I do believe David is with you. Soul mates are together forever. He's watching over you. (((Hugs)))
Mary

Betsy from Tennessee said...

Oh My Wendy.... Your post made me cry an cry... I don't know what I'd do if I lost George... I'd be doing the same thing that you are doing I'm sure...

David will be with you--in spirit--forever... He may not be there in the form of a butterfly--but he will be there in the form of a PEN..... I'd keep every one of those pens... That's what he would want...

God Bless You, Wendy.
Hugs,
Betsy

Cheryl said...

My dear Wendy, you touch my very soul.

The story of the pen is so significant.....strangely I am a collecter of pens! I have pens everywhere.

Thank you for sharing this very moving tribute to the man you loved........still love....deeply.

Thiinking of you each day.

Love and light

Maggie May said...

The way you are handling your grief is remarkable and that pen was quite unfathomable.
You do write in a wonderful way. I believe it is very therapeutic.
Love ((hugs))
Maggie X

Nuts in May

amelia said...

I love your writing, you make everything so beautifully real.

I also and a pen collector, I bought two more yesterday and I even asked myself 'why' when I was buying them. Maybe now I know why...

I hope you are writing a journal also, a tribute to your love.

Rose said...

Wendy, I think of you often and wonder how you are doing. From your story, I think you must be progressing well on your journey through the healing process. The story of the pen is so touching and yet humorous--I like the thought that David stole all the pens:) May you continue to feel David's spirit with you wherever you go.

Mark said...

Thank-you for sharing this. I love that the pen showed up when it did. There are no accidents, the pen was there for a purpose, a way of communicating with you!

Hilary said...

Wendy, you're so connected with David. Has passing hasn't changed that. Pens are for writing and you do that so beautifully. Hugs to you.

Morning Glories in Round Rock said...

Dear Wendy,

What a wonderful touching story. I think it shows that even death cannot break that loving connection you have with David. I also love that not only you, but your family continues to honor that connection with buying David a coffee too. I am reminded of a funny story I share with my mother. Every year at holidays when she would be cooking, without fail the smoke alarm would go off. My step-father would always say, " It's not Christmas(or whatever holiday it was) until the smoke alarm goes off", as he would climb the ladder to turn it off. The first holiday after he was gone, the alarm when off, and we cried. Now, at every holiday when it goes off we laugh...and say, "Merry Christmas Ken".

kanak7 said...

Wendy....my husband collects pens too. I was moved by the way you wrote. It's a comforting thought that David is with you. That pen...amazing!

KleinsteMotte said...

As I read your post I found myself transported into your world. i could follow every word and emotion and
was touched. I get it. It is very real. The prayer. The pen. So very special. And the willow tree!!

Mary said...

Just smile. He's still with you!

beckie said...

Wendy, you have been in my thoughts, wondering how you are doing. I think you are finding your way through the grieving process. Most important is to do what feels right to you. I think you are so very fortunate to feel David's presence as strongly as you do-a wonderful gift. :) And it is very comforing to have a physical thing to associate with him. You have pens, I have dragonflies. They do help us feel still connected.

Hugs to you, dear Wendy!

femail doc said...

Brown birds and pens and butterflies, oh my! Soul mates for sure!

Miss Sandra said...

Hugs...my dear and wishes for comfort. David is with you now and always.
xoxo
Sandra

Mom2-2goodboys said...

Wendy, another beautiful blog post. What a great visual sight finding that pen! Surely, that was David's doing. You have such a wonderful way of expressing your feelings and putting them down into words.

It has been a year since sweet Ingrid's passing and I have yet to be able to find the passion to blog like I use to. I do hope to one day....

In the meantime, I will always come back to read and find comfort in what you have to say.

Celia said...

Wendy, your courage and heart continues to support you. Your post gave me goosebumps and tears. David is still with you, always.

Grammy said...

As they all say above you are very gifted with words. You paint a beautiful picture. That we all can visualize. As all of us are transported to your world in words.
You move my soul and make me think. I do not know how it will feel or react. I so believe he is still with you. And is happy u honer him still with his coffee. Be blessed my friend. hug.

Q said...

Dear Wendy,
David is so near to you...always. I love the way you honor him and the love you share...will always share.
I too love pens...all sorts.
Wonderful to know you are being true to your feelings and following your heart and the still small voice.
Namaste,
Sherry

Shammickite said...

Just the fact that you are able to write this in such a moving and descriptive way tells me that you are dealing with the sad loss of your beloved husband in the best way you know how. Keep it up! Your life will never be the same again, and you know that, but life goes on and David will always be with you. May life smile apon you again, Wendy!

Abba's Girl said...

Thank you for sharing this with us. You remain in my prayers as well as your family. Peace, love and comfort to you.

Abba's Girl said...

Thank you for sharing this with us. You remain in my prayers as well as your family. Peace, love and comfort to you.

Abba's Girl said...

Thank you for sharing this with us. You remain in my prayers as well as your family. Peace, love and comfort to you.

ladyfi said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. This is a beautiful tribute.

Dave said...

Wendy, a lovely revelation. Don't deny David's memory - act like he's still with you, as you did with the coffee. Love doesn't die when a partner has gone. - Dave

Brian Miller said...

thank you...your post was perfect...and i needed that...congrats on the potw!

Tabor said...

Congrats on the POTW. It was sweet and poignant and I can see the wonderful connection you and your husband had and still have.

slommler said...

What a beautiful tribute to David! And to find that pen was amazing! Congrats on you POTW
Hugs
SueAnn

blunoz said...

Oh my gosh! What a powerful connection and a beautiful post. Congrats on POTW.

Stacey Dawn said...

Congrats on the POTW.

I am so very sorry for your loss.

I can relate to seeing a pen and believing his spirit is near.... I see a penny on the ground and KNOW my dad's spirit is near.

Cricket said...

Belated congratulations on the potw. I'm just catching up. A beautiful post. My grandfather once visited with me in a purple petunia. I believe the pen. It's real.

The people we have loved do not pass away, they pass within, to live somewhere near your heart.

I will remember you and your husband in my own prayers tonight. God bless you both.

kanak7 said...

Wendy...it's me again. Just wanted to tell you that I was happy you stopped by yesterday. You've been on my mind a great deal. Take care.

imbeingheldhostage said...

Such a beautiful and moving post. It seems strange to congratulate you on the POTW on a lovely tribute written through mourning, but that is how I found my way here. Blessings to you,
J

hummer said...

Beautiful thoughts. The spirit does speak to us, if we are listening. You have a wonderful habit of enjoying nature and seeing it. The first months are lonely and hard, but they are also part of the process. I am approaching the second year since he went back home, and have found that writing his stories for the family has been a way of keeping his memories alive and not forgotten as well as healing for me in remembering our fun and special times. My thoughts and prayers are with you too.

CherylK said...

I don't know when I've been so touched, Wendy. I'm here through Hilary's link and am pleased that she chose this post to share through POTW.

I can identify with you about the pens and the coffee. I have a little ceramic box on my bedside table with two wrapped Werther's butterscotch candies in it. My mom always had that little box by her bed with a few of these candies inside. These two are the last she put there. Keeping the box is something that makes me happy.

JeanMac said...

Oh, Wendy, I'm speechless. Sending love.J

Beverly said...

I feel so bad....I just now spending time on blogging. I am so sorry for your loss. I would keep the candle lit too. Please know I will be thinking of you and will not be so long visiting again.

LK said...

Dear Wendy,
I just heard that your David has passed on. My deepest condolences go out to you.

Beth Niquette said...

Again...my eyes are filled with tears. Your stories touch my heart so deeply.

Thank you THANK YOU for sharing your heart.