I never knew you, not really. And still, you shaped my life. I sit here, thirty-five years older, unable to sleep, remembering Rome.
I never knew that side of you - you surprised me when you took the scarf from your bag and hid away the dark silken tresses of you hair. We entered St Peters and you led me to a side chapel as if you knew exactly what you sought, and you knelt in prayer while I watched over you, a few steps to one side, lacking your conviction, and your faith. Even now, I wonder whom you prayed for. You never spoke of it, not to me. And for those few minutes, I saw a different person, humble, meek, supplicant, and troubled.
Outside, in the square you shook your hair free in the bright April sunshine, stowed away the scarf your carried from England just for this single purpose, vivacity restored, and resumed my education - I wonder if you know how much you taught me. I imagined then you were praying for your Father, his deteriorating health was a constant concern.
And time acquires the consistency of elastic, shrinks the intervening years, and I can hear your voice, and smell your hair, and tingle under the bright sparkle of your dark eyes. You knew even then you were going to break my heart, and you did, and it hurt, and still we could not draw apart, and as clear as yesterday I remember lying with you on a blanket, at the bottom of the garden when you told me how much you loved me, and how you loved another.
We lived that life for two years - do you remember? I no longer feel the sharpness of the pain, or the numbness of the loss. You taught me how to love, you showed me how to forgive, and you made me believe that giving freely without thought of receiving is the greatest of gifts. And when you finished my education, you quietly left, vanished without trace and left me to bestow my love on the sweet soul who has stayed by my side these past thirty years, she reaps the harvest sown by you, and I know you wouldn't have it any other way.
I wonder what happened to you. I know you didn’t find peace with your other love. From time to time, I pick up his books, he still dedicates them to you… and to me. I've not spoken to him in decades, not since you left us both.
I just wanted to say thank-you, for showing me how to love, how to reach beyond my own thoughts and feelings, and how to give my love to others. I hope you are happy.
I never knew that side of you - you surprised me when you took the scarf from your bag and hid away the dark silken tresses of you hair. We entered St Peters and you led me to a side chapel as if you knew exactly what you sought, and you knelt in prayer while I watched over you, a few steps to one side, lacking your conviction, and your faith. Even now, I wonder whom you prayed for. You never spoke of it, not to me. And for those few minutes, I saw a different person, humble, meek, supplicant, and troubled.
Outside, in the square you shook your hair free in the bright April sunshine, stowed away the scarf your carried from England just for this single purpose, vivacity restored, and resumed my education - I wonder if you know how much you taught me. I imagined then you were praying for your Father, his deteriorating health was a constant concern.
And time acquires the consistency of elastic, shrinks the intervening years, and I can hear your voice, and smell your hair, and tingle under the bright sparkle of your dark eyes. You knew even then you were going to break my heart, and you did, and it hurt, and still we could not draw apart, and as clear as yesterday I remember lying with you on a blanket, at the bottom of the garden when you told me how much you loved me, and how you loved another.
We lived that life for two years - do you remember? I no longer feel the sharpness of the pain, or the numbness of the loss. You taught me how to love, you showed me how to forgive, and you made me believe that giving freely without thought of receiving is the greatest of gifts. And when you finished my education, you quietly left, vanished without trace and left me to bestow my love on the sweet soul who has stayed by my side these past thirty years, she reaps the harvest sown by you, and I know you wouldn't have it any other way.
I wonder what happened to you. I know you didn’t find peace with your other love. From time to time, I pick up his books, he still dedicates them to you… and to me. I've not spoken to him in decades, not since you left us both.
I just wanted to say thank-you, for showing me how to love, how to reach beyond my own thoughts and feelings, and how to give my love to others. I hope you are happy.
