Abby's journal

 

 

March 10, 2018

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Steve feels overwhelmed by changes and decisions. His cat, Gwendolyn, is struggling with end-of-life illness, which comes and goes such that Steve doesn't know whether to try to rescue her with treatments, or let her go. He is looking for an apartment for himself, adapting to big city traffic (and parking, or rather lack thereof), and a new job (his first real day of work starts in a few hours), and all of that at once.

This is also the eighth anniversary of our marriage across the Great Divide, with me here in the astral level of vibration, and Steve in the physical world. He feels guilty that he can't stop and honor it exclusively, today--but he honors it every day, every minute, by his love (spoken or unspoken), by his faithfulness, and by all of his intentions and actions. He is constantly honoring our marriage. (That said, I would like a little private time just for us to talk, if he wouldn't mind ;-).

The apartment he looked at this morning is very near where we used to live, when we first came to Portland, as Steve has surmised. We used to walk down the street that this apartment almost corners upon. He doesn't get such good vibes from the place, itself (it was built in 1864, and so it has a lot of lingering impressions); but he wants to live near where we did, when we were a hopeful young couple. I think if he does move there, he will make it his own, and our own, again.* We had to do exactly the same thing, you see. He doesn't remember. It was hardly ideal when we moved in; but together, we made it our own.

There is another place he likes that is sort of large realtor low-cost paradise--but just try getting in there! He will look at it, tomorrow. We, also, had places we dreamed of living in, which we could never afford, or could never get into. Things haven't changed that much, regarding these matters.

A few days ago, Steve penned me this little poem as an anniversary gift. He says, he has been remiss, but he is not about to let our anniversary go by without giving me a present, and this is it. He wrote it all by himself (i.e., without help from me), and this, during a time that is so stressful for him. I suppose he must love me :-).

The slightest touch, the softest breath,
brushes past my inward sense;
I hold in wait my mental pen;
Abby's with me once again.

Her presence thrills, it soothes and warms;
I recognize her inward charms
As most belov'd from days of yore;
Abby's with me as before!

She presses on my mind a thought;
It flashes past as if 'twere naught!
And all the while my heart she'll cheer;
She, herself, is drawing near.

My angel queen, my radiant star,
I searched for you both near, and far;
My dauphine of the first degree,
Come now and set my sorrow free!

The last stanza contains personal references, which you may be familiar with if you are a regular, here. I think it is quite delightful...Steve retains Mathew's ability to write, and also, his reticence about writing poetry! But he is still quite good if he gets over his fear block, and puts his full effort into one.

Love to each and all,
Abby

*I have decided not to take the apartment if offered, because they pulled a "bait-and-switch" on me regarding the parking space. The apartment was supposed to come with one, but it turns out you have to "negotiate" with the other residents for it, or try to park side-by-side in a single driveway, or try to drive around the other person if you are blocked. The existence of a "bait-and-switch" is, I feel, something Abby is trying to train me to watch out for in any negotiations or impending decisions.--S