43 Years (About My Late Wife and Our Marriage)

43 Years, 1 Months, 5 Days and 2 hours & 29 minutes

(as inspired by Mark)

Why, I ask myself, do I know her so much better?

Better in death than in life?

Better when she is gone

Rather than standing before me?

I could ask her then,

And have an answer

But I couldn’t truly

Fashion the question

I have seen the last chapter in her life

There is no more to be written

Only questioned

But the answers may be there

I can ask my memories

I can see her picture

Or something she wrote

Maybe only a slip of paper with few words

Maybe her diary for that day

As fragmented as that is

Or a memory from another

One I had never heard before

Why do I understand her

Better in death than in life?

Because I have seen her life play out

And now have the time to ponder it.

Note: This one is so personal, I am a bit surprised I even posted it!