Saturday, January 26, 2008

5 senses

Since I don't have your scent or taste or sound
All that's left for me
is touch and sight of you to see.

I don't have a sense of smell so I can't get Jim's scent from the shirts like many can. I don't have his voice on tons of tapes to listen to. I eat the food that I like and don't taste his preferences anymore, so it's like I don't taste him. All I have left of my five senses of him is touch and sight.

I fill the sight with photos of him. The smile, the eyes, the mole on his forehead and the things I know so well. Touch is filled by feeling his shirts and then closing my eyes and seeing him in them. Remembering when I touched him while he wore this one. Rubbed his chest, straightened a tie or grabbed the shirt on both sides and pulled him to me for a hug. Touch is also running a finger over a photo and imagining the feel of his skin. Maybe creepier than wearing his shirts, but it still fulfills the need for a connection.

The sixth sense. I can't say I have that, but I can imagine it. The feeling that sometimes he is close by and I can close my eyes and feel him in the room.

I write this ten minutes after I crawled into bed. I was singing 'hang on tight to your dreams' in my head and I closed my eyes and touched his shirt which is a pillow case for me. And I realized I could only touch a remenent and only see an echo.


Donna said...

He Is there may not be able to "see" him, but he's there...much love to you!

rachd said...

I LONG for that sixth sense, to KNOW Han is with me.

I like the idea of using a shirt as a pillowcase, I may try to find one of Hannah's loveys and have it made into a pillowcase. Thank you for the idea.

I often wonder, would it be better to have no memories, and therefore no pain? But, then, of course, you would be deprived of all the wonder and joy that was life with that loved one. Rather like in "The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" I guess.

I think, as overwhelming as this pain can be, I'll take the memories.

You are frequently in my thoughts, Betsy. HUGS to you!