A Poem of Gratitude

On July 4, I received a text message that read, “Congratulations to the three of you.  Lots of love, Aunt Kay.”  Well, I don’t have an Aunt Kay, and the only “three of you” in my life is me, my dog Pepper and my cat Chile.  But I knew who the text came from:  my ex-fiancee has an Aunt Kay.  And so this is how I heard that Aaron’s wife had their baby, a son they named Maximus.  This was exactly a year and six weeks after we split.

More than anything else, I feel gratitude that our lives took us in such different directions.  We are better people for having loved each other, and better people apart than we were together.  And I know love in a way I didn’t know I could:  without selfishness, without needing to “possess” a loved one.  I wrote this poem last night, driving home from dancing with some wonderful people on the plaza, watching the moonrise, feeling unbelievably blessed for this thing that is my life.

 

Gratitude

(after Anna Swir’s “Thank You, My Fate”)

 

I’m unworthy, how

beautiful my life,

how simple the moonrise

over the mountain, music

drifting through the plaza,

the smiling dancers.  How

honored I am to

have loved you, now

loved by another, I no

longer cry—that is for

your son to do.  I cherish

our moments, I give you

away to happiness

that is now yours,

that is now mine,

that is ours, apart—

with gratitude.

 

________

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