Kissing Fish 

For me art reflects the celebration of the simple and good things in life.  This is most important to me.  Romero Britto

To MY belovED:

Brushing my teeth, making the bed, doing whatever I have to do; every hour of the day something reminds me of you.

Comic strips, horoscopes, crossword puzzles that we’d try,Tootsie Rolls, candy corn, Friday night fish fries, apple pie;

Praying the daily rosary, lighting the candle, fingering the beads; mentioning special intentions, and asking God to grant our needs;

Bright red geraniums in summer, golden chrysanthemums in fall—we’d choose them at the nursery, then you’d plant and tend them all.

A sleek shiny convertible cruising down the street; having to answer “How are you?” to everyone I meet;

Paying bills and balancing my checkbook, getting the mail and filling the car tank with gas; listening to oldies on the radio; sharing the sign of peace at Sunday Mass;

Interesting lectures and field trips at Osher—learning while having fun; matching lounge chairs on the patio—yours in the shade, mine in the sun;

Cashmere and argyle sweaters, Donegal tweed Irish caps, college beer steins and sweatshirts, two-hour afternoon naps;

Refilling prescriptions at CVS, buying sugar-free honey-lemon cough drops; seeing your favorite flavors of ice cream on sale three for $10 at Top’s;

Law and Order, Lawrence Welk, political pundits on Fox TV News, hearing all the arguments defending conservative views;

Travel brochures and catalogues of sites to see and places to go; a fireplace, a big comfy chair, easy listening on the stereo;

Baseball season nearing an end  (the Red Sox were your favorite team); current events around the world would make you want to scream.

Emptying the dishwasher—I use it now just once a week; never letting dirty dishes pile up in the kitchen sink.

Organ concerts, musicals, plays that have a happy end; phone calls and email messages  that our grandchildren send;

Autumn leaves, a pumpkin patch, apple cider, football games; looking through photo albums, retelling stories, remembering names;

The car inspection was overdue—in the past you would remind me—just one of the little things you did–I can’t put my need for you behind me.

Hearing someone ask:  “What’s next?” Walking Maisy around the block; working on the computer; winding the grandfather clock;

A warm shower in the morning, a drive through the park; visits with friends and family, lying in bed alone in the dark.

Jack Callaghan’s Irish Identity Class—listening to Hal Roche routines; Nicholas Sparks’ movies and books, especially the romantic scenes;  (Because they sometimes make me cry, I keep a box of tissues nearby).

Adding an hour when changing the clocks; sun rays breaking through a cloud; putting away the summer things; hearing “I Love You” spoken aloud.

Four in the morning:  “Finding it hard getting up”—one of our private jokes; Honeymoon eggs—that’s what we called them when I broke the yolks.

I’m hooked on a new TV series, it’s called This is Us–there are so many situations we could relate to and discuss;

Seeing long married couples holding hands and having fun; waking at dawn and thanking God for a new day begun;

Spike and Princess Kitty, Romero Britto’s Kissing Fish make me think of your playful side, your fantasy wish.

The carefully chosen artwork displayed on our walls; the profusion of sales circulars in the mail from area malls;

A starry sky, a moonlit night, raindrops on the roof; if ever I wondered whether I was loved, your kisses gave me proof.

Making ice cubes  without overfilling the tray—you were right!  They come out more easily that way.

Using brown paper and packing tape to wrap a box; folding the laundry,  matching the socks;

Soft silent snowflakes swirling around creating a beautiful white blanket to cover the ground;

Christmas carols, mistletoe, ornaments for the tree—they aren’t as much fun without you here to enjoy them with me;

Sharing Polish traditions on Christmas Eve and celebrating the faith we grew up with and believe.

Turtleneck collars, polished leather shoes; knowing how to cheer me up when I have the blues.

Making corned beef and cabbage and soda bread our own special way; Irish songs and dances; celebrating St. Patrick’s Day;

Springing ahead and losing an hour of sleep; gathering receipts for filing tax returns—you taught me which ones to keep.

Forsythia in all its glory, bulbs bursting forth in spring; my gold wedding band and diamond engagement ring;

I burned my hand with boiling water while making tea the other day; you would have dried my tears and kissed the pain away.

Front closure clothing,  slip-on bracelets, devices to help me walk; there isn’t always someone around when I need to talk.

Each posed anniversary photo in its gilded frame; every time I see, or say, or sign my name;

I’m making decisions alone now on matters we once would first discuss; and find that in my conversations, I still say, “we,” “our,” and “us.”

…..to be continued,   LovEstelle

About the artist:  Britto’s art has an unrestrained and optimistic outlook on life.  It is displayed in more than 140 galleries nationwide as well as  in permanent collections of multiple museums  around the world.