Saturday, September 11, 2010


It happens.

A song plays. A breeze brushes past my face. A scene from a movie crosses the screen. I stand in the kitchen for no certain reason. A sunset paints itself across the horizon. Our dog sticks his head out the window. I lay silently in bed.

These diminutive things take place, and from head to toe I am overwhelmed with how much I am in love with him. How much of his love gives me random moments of bliss and makes me thankful to be around to feel them.

It's the equivalent to his 6'2 self wrapping his arms around me. A kiss of his lips on my forehead. Awakening to find him watching me.

It's the same sensation, just in a new form. A form that makes all well in this tornado of a world I live in.

I don't know where they come from or why, but they are a reminder of the capacity of happiness that is and can be felt in this soul of mine. A whisper from his soul into mine. A promise that he's always with me. A promise that all will be well.


  1. wow, you described that feeling so well. It's almost sublime when your heart and soul recognizes him fleetingly.

  2. I have those moments when I stop and notice...only I feel empty and hollow.

  3. Believe me, those moments definitely were most prominent in the first 2 years...but slowly....these replaced them.

    Sending you strength and love.


  4. so beautiful taryn. and so accurate.

  5. Beautifully written!

    Sometimes, I feel that I live with a ghost. I hear him calling me as the breeze shifts the forsythia branches in the dead of winter. I feel his presence on a day like today when I celebrate our son's 23rd birthday, which was also John's birthday . . . although John has been gone 16 years now. I shared the birth of our son today in a read-around as I read from my memoir the scene where although so sick from cancer, John came to the hospital and handed me a dozen yellow roses. As long as they live in our hearts, they never die . . . their story and ours lives on.