Say His Name

This powerful poem was posted in Widowed Village and is based on Donald Hackett's book “Saying Olin to Say Goodbye”. It was rephrased to personalize it, so I've done the same here (italicized words were changed).

The time of concern is over.
No longer am I asked how I am doing.
Never is the name of my husband mentioned to me.

A curtain descends. The moment has passed.

A life slips from frequent recall.
There are exceptions:  Close and compassionate friends.
Sensitive and loving family. 
For most, the drama is over.

The spotlight is off.
Applause is silent.

But for me the play will never end.
The effects on me are timeless.

Say Vern to me.

On the stage of my life he has been both lead and supporting actor.
Do not tiptoe around the greatest event of my life.

Love does not die.
His name is written on my life.

The sound of his voice replays within my mind.
You feel he is dead.

I feel he is of the dead and still he lives.
He ghostwalks my soul, beckoning in future welcome.

You say he was my husband.

I say he is.

Say Vern to me and say Vern again.

It hurts to bury his memory in silence.
What he was in the flesh has now turned to ash.
What he is in spirit stirs within me always.

He is of my past, but he is part of my now.
He is my hope for the future.

You say not to remind me.
How little you understand
I cannot forget.
I would not if I could.

I understand you, but feel pain in being forced to do so.
I forgive you, because you cannot know.

And I would forgive you anyway.

I accept how you see me,
But I understand that you see me not at all.
I strive not to judge you, for yesterday I was like you.
But I wish you could understand that I dwell both in flesh and spirit.
The mystery is that you do too, but know it not.

I do not ask you to walk this road.
The ascent is steep and the burden heavy.
I walk it not by choice.
I would rather walk with him in the flesh,
Looking not to spirit roads beyond.

I am what I have to be.
What I have lost you cannot feel.

What I have gained you cannot see.
And I would not have you.

Say Vern for he is alive in me.

He and I will meet again, though in many ways we have never parted.
He and his life play light songs on my mind,
Sunrises and sunsets on my dreams.
He is real and shadow, was and is.

Say Vern to me and say Vern again.

He is my husband and I love him as I always did.

Say Vern.