the beauty of temporary light

VENICE; I was a young fiancée of another century when we took a nighttime gondola ride in the pitch black sweetness of air passing under bridges with sounds of an oar splashing into water and an aria from our gondolier breaking the velvety waves. We had our whole lives before us.

IMG_4063We’d be in Sorrento right now, checked into our hotel, he’d go for a swim, and I’d check the view from our room. I’d see his flash of green eyes from the veranda, smiling up at me. We’d have buffalo mozzarella and bread for lunch, and go in search of a cafe. If only he had lived.

I have had a surprisingly good two days after a month of utter dark hell, and a year that changed me forever from a loss I’ll never replace… but I am really ok but still wanted to share this. Life is so surreal. It isn’t fair for any of us. But for whatever reason I am temporarily filled with the light of what we had. Even on a day he should have the italian sun on his face.

I’m working on my book the last few days and listening to Scottish Celtic music and thinking about the vast enormity of deeply explored passions and interests of Rian and myself together – especially deeply explored by him like an ancient scholar seeking wisdom and beauty in equal measure whilst I was always the sucker for beauty before wisdom… some days and some nights, oh especially the nights, I can’t seem to bear beauty… but right now I can, especially when the flashes of beauty and wisdom remind me of what cannot be destroyed… the imprint of his energy and the memory of his shining green eyes.