Post Anniversary Pause

If I pause as I do this morning
I can feel clouds behind 
my eyelids and the ache on my
tail bone where I slipped last night 
shattering my wine glass
on the carpet in the dining room

“Good thing you drink white wine,”
he said as he picked up the
shards and scrubbed chardonnay
from the carpet while I changed my shirt
and if I pause to think about it,
that was a kind gesture and I am grateful

If I pause as I do now, I can still feel that
pang of hurt from something my niece 
said to me and I realize that her truth and
my truth do not intersect much, 
that she's matriarch over a large family
and leads them in ways I cannot understand,
a mist of sadness lingers knowing
two of her grandchildren will be born 
this winter to unvaccinated mothers

If I pause as I do now, I can hear myself 
sigh as I often do, if I pause 
I will remember that I am responsible for my
reactions to unkind words, to a sadness that has
not been removed for over fifty years, to losses
that cannot be made whole again,
only reconciled through sighs

If I pause as I do now, I notice a coffee taste 
lingering on my tongue, 
the cool glass of the desk where I rest my elbows, 
I will notice that I have lived with this man 
who cleaned up broken glass 
for me more than once, 
who soothed a broken heart 
for me more than once,
I will notice that for half of my life, 
33 of my 66 years
we’ve built an Us together
and if I pause like I do now, I appreciate the
magnitude of this gift

This poem is dedicated to my best friend, David, my husband. It was inspired by phrases in the poem, Winter Morning by James Crews.

Top photo is of my husband and I vacationing in Mexico, 2018. The bottom photo was taken at our wedding.

Advertisement