My wife has been with me a lot lately. Actually, she always is. Her voice has been some louder as I wander recently through treasured memories. Maybe it’s because I am nearing the time of year when I lost her. Or it could be that there is some message I’m meant to know. In any case, her voice soothes me and makes me broken heart a little more whole. Occasionally, she even inspires a poem.
She asked me once what was my favorite moment that we had shared. To spur me on, she started first. She relayed a tale about a park bench where we had sat to talk one night. It was a memory I barely recalled as she started her story.
I had left the windows open in the car parked nearby. The radio was playing in the car. At one point there had been a lull in the conversation. In the break, I had started to sing along with the Howie Day song playing on the radio.
I must interject here, I cannot sing. Music is very important to me, and I love to try to sing, but I cannot hold a tune, and I’m sure I am awful to listen to.
My wife went on to tell me, that in the quiet moment, me singing at my worst in full voice, that she knew for the first time that I was willing to drop all my walls and open up to her completely. That brief event told her that we were connected in a way that no one else could ever define.
My favorite moment was an equally uneventful occasion. A group of us had rented two condos on the beach. My dear Laramie and I were not even dating at the time. There was a mutual attraction, though, and we both felt something growing between us. But neither of us had dared to broach the subject.
One of the last nights of the trip, there was supposed to be a “spectacular” lunar eclipse. The sky was partly cloudy and the eclipse was rather unimpressive.
I had stepped away from the group to take a phone call. Laramie came running to me because she had gone to put some garbage in the dumpsters when she came across a family of raccoons. In her story, there were dozens of them, though when we went to inspect I never saw more than two.
To comfort her, I had put my arm around her and pulled her tight. I ended my phone call and gave her my full attention trying to calm her fears. Mostly we just stood there silently in the night.
Something changed in that moment. Laramie was no longer my closest friend. She was my heart’s desire, and we were a couple from that second onward. I will always cherish that night.
A Poem Is Born
That night will probably always be my favorite memory. It was then that I knew how much I loved her, and that we would always be together. Laramie may no longer be with me in person, buy her voice will always guide me.
Thinking about that night inspired the following poem.
You Asked Me
You asked me when I loved you
When I first knew that I cared
Your asked me what had happened
That caused my heart to be bared
It wasn’t at a dinner
Or dancing close in the dark
It wasn’t at a picnic
Or while raining in the park
It wasn’t while out camping
Or walking the crooked trails
It wasn’t at the movies
Or under white billowed sails
The love I have grew slowly
Snuck up on me from behind
A small seed grew and blossomed
In a corner of my mind
The hint of love came later
Although I was slow to learn
Each moment it grew stronger
Until my whole heart would burn
The light shined at its brightest
A light I couldn’t deny
The night that nothing happened
While gazing up at the sky
You’d run to me in panic
Raccoons disturbed the piled trash
You clutched my arm for safety
Love exploded in a flash
This is my favorite moment
While looking at the full moon
My arm held tight around you
Our two hearts then played in tune
I knew then how I loved you
My heart now forever yours
Our souls were joined together
To all others closed their doors
I knew in that brief moment
You would one day be my wife
No time of space could cleave us
I’d love you for all my life
April 1, 2018