My uncle’s memorial was a week ago tomorrow. I’m still healing from the loss. There are good and bad days but I welcome tears as a form of healthy grieving, nonetheless.
My uncle was an avid writer. He kept a journal that he wrote in every single day and he also wrote poetry. I would do my best to decipher his handwriting and type them up for him when I was a teenager.
My aunt read one of his poems last weekend before sending his ashes out to sea. As she read it, I could almost recite it word for word. I knew it sounded familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I brushed it off as just another one that I’d typed up for him long ago. But in my mind, I could almost see the paper it was typed on.
Well I saw that paper tonight….I was rummaging around in a nightstand this evening and came across a binder. A binder full of my own poems that I wrote when I was growing up.
I opened it and in the left side pocket was the very poem my aunt read. The words jumped off the page. What meant even more was his handwritten message dedicating the poem to me. It was dated August 30, 1991.
And here it is:
Love is a blessing and growth is the gift. God is love within two does He exist.
Time is endless along the path of devotion, filling each others needs and wanted emotions.
A natural warmth that lives as one – nurtured by two, touchable by none.
The beauty of a sun rise fresh and new, the serenity of a June moon and an I Love You.
Being together all of the times, precious moments of one mind, strong is the intangible bond, that haunts and hungers the hearts of all mankind.