5/12 Tuesday

Two thousand nine is a lost year for me.
I can find no journal, my calendar is gone, have only
Jack’s pocket calendar.

I am afraid I have lost the small details,
Wish so to remember what I can before
I loose all:

Most of January, dinner with friends,
Jack working for the auctioneer and
doing side jobs.

A show at the B&B, sell some things, riding 
When we can, Jack shooting as chance allows.
He enjoys trap

February, a gallery show East meets West. Jack
Pouring more Dogfish beers over 10 ounces,  staying
with the Russells’.

March, Joel comes to visit, of course they
Go shooting and we conspired on dinner menus,
Lots of talking.

In March I broke that lamp and in a welling of despair
Felt the toll these years here had taken on me as
Well as Jack

I paint Snow Hill. We work the oddi auction on Apr 22.
Ian sings Time that sun sets, this outfits history - 100
Head or more.

The Ward show again falls on his birthday. His mallard 
Garners no awards but Jack asks questions, listens avidly
To judges’ advice.

I still have the photo of Jack and Dover from an earlier
Bark in the Park. Did he take Arlo this year?

I can’t remember.

May, Phil is here to visit and they both shoot,
And go to the Shorebirds as once they would
Go to Fenway,

Jack shot as often as he could, and worked his studio,
Ideas emerging and shaping as he would come ask
Help with drawing.

He found designs, decoys, spoons to copy, 
we built mock-ups of clay, allowing his touch
to learn, transform. 

June we did not see Delbert again but at the Globe did
Hear Roy Bookbinder, whose words I wrote, perhaps in
That lost journal

Late in the month, pregnant with triplets
Delia came with Inning and Kimmi
Summer with us.

The pool was a favored spot, all sun drugged. 
Inning helped with farm chores, we shot skeet
And watched baseball.

Days on the river, swimming off the boat,
Trips to outlets looking for deals. Old friends arriving
To hug Delia.

Days to the seashore, the fireman’s carnival, of barbequeing
In the back yard and sharing recipes. Watching polo,
Enjoying our company.

Kimmi following Ahhlow, and Arlo licking her face.
The joy of having this sweet family in our house.
Time too short.

What did we do for my birthday? I don’t know 
Dinner somewhere? we were together and we were 
happy with that

And his doctors appointments were about psoriasis 
Not prostate and levels although I remember 
Talking of such.

Sept 11 was Ligonier and Rich was not well. 
Mostly I remember the long ride home discussing
Views about death.

Where to be buried? Not Pocomoke and probably
Not Needham, keep it simple, he needed only his ring
In the grave.

Oh well, when we are both buried in Needham then
Will his ring rest in the grave. Rich’s memorial
Was on Sept 25th.

22 years on October 4th, celebrated with each other
Content with our being together. Two decades plus,
Looking for more.

We redo the bathroom, because whatever comes, next
This time we are going to enjoy a remodeling project
While we’re  here

Mid month an appointment with that urologist,
Biopsy at the hospital results and a diagnosis
It is cancer.

But this Doc is confident and arrogant. 
We,trusting, so bewildered, everyone heals from 
this, don’t they?

Jack signs up for a decoy show next labor day. 
He will need to work hard to carve enough inventory.
A great idea.

I will hang paintings, and can see a time we do this often,
A new venture. I consider an asheville workshop
For both of us. 

Another goose season and better a deer season
By the pine Jack set up and shot his first deer
A ten pointer.

A shot through the jaw, dropped instantly
He calls us at Faith’s to tell. I fly home in the subaru,
Joel, Rico follow.

We hang the rack in a tree so when it has decompsed
To skull can hang in our home. Another deer later,
Provides me venison.

One day I will hang that rack in the kitchen above
His painting and when that happen, within a year
I will leave.

Thanksgiving, my mother chose to go to Cheryl’s
Afterall, there is always next year. Joel brings a wild
Turkey he shot.

We, as often we would, discuss recipes for moist bird.
Presented on a marvelous old platter, the bird and all
Is perfectly detectable.

Saturday, Jack and Joel do not go shoot, 
Rather help Rico and me at an auction, so never have
that last shoot.

And the times we rode, the last, taking the bay, the gray
To ride the back fields along the river, as ever riding
touched by heaven.


December, he is content with his doctor, 
His choice of surgery date and I drive him early
to the hospital.

His doctor leaves me hanging, 
never comes out after to talk to me
about my husband.

Who stays in the hospital a few extra days
Its a procedure new for the doc, has my Dear in pain,
Told its normal.

Jack heard from that doc, that this 
would be the most painful thing he 
would ever feel. 

However much I fault myself and I do,
How I hold those words against that doc 
And hate him.

The snowstorms started while Jack was still 
in the hospital and harried us forever with a cold
I’ve never lost.