You and the bottle of beer

My wife died 29 years ago this month.

The curse of clocks and calendars

Has forced the best of us to be

But a memory.

When laughter came so easily,

Like dancing in the rain

Or you asleep on my shoulder.

When we had no time for problems,

And we talked about forever

As if it could ever be reality.

 

It has been 29 years since you left

And the pain is like yesterday.

You held my hand and closed your eyes

And suddenly, you were gone

And I was so terribly alone

And all the old habits refused to die

Like when I still called you to come to breakfast

And had two plates on the table.

 

But then the miracle happened

I know that I was asleep and it was a dream

But I had the television on and was on the sofa

And suddenly you were there.

“Give me a swig of your beer,” you said

And you raised the bottle to your lips

Then you walked to the far end of the coffee table

Put the botle on the table and said, “I miss you.”

 

“Oh God, how I miss you,” I replied

And you smiled and you were more beautiful

Than all your yesterdays

And I fell in love with you again.

“I can’t stay,” you told me and added,

“It will all be okay. It’ll take time, but it’ll be okay.”

And then you were gone and I knew I was dreaming

Except my beer bottle was at the far end of the table.

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[John the Baptist]

A case of psychic phenomena here? When two minds have been close, anything can happen.