Fortieth Anniversary

Your presence was like yesterday’s bread,
Gone stale and unappreciated.
I needed to fast, to cleanse my senses of habitual indulgence.
I took pleasure in the severity of my fast,
My solitude, the space around my body.
The snugness of seclusion comforted me.
I learned, perhaps for the first time, of my Self,
And began to feel at home in my solitary form.

Now once more I savor your nearness, your warmth and wit.
Separation brought again the desire to draw close to you,
To treasure the freshness of each day’s bread with you.
There is newness in this hunger, this desire to be close,
Yet the Self I discovered still needs a solitary sphere.
As we journey into the forty-first year of our covenant, let us add a vow:
To love, honor and cherish the boundaries that separate us
As well as the ties that bind.


I promise to succor and surrender you,
To reinforce and relinquish you,
To enable and emancipate you,
To nurture and release you,
As long as we both shall live.
February, 1996

 In Chapter 8 of Passage, I wrote of a healing session with Sharry Lachman regarding my relationship with my husband, Fred. Going through chemotherapy treatment intensified and brought out many old issues and patterns. It became clear to me that these had health consequences and needed to be dealt with. I was so fortunate to have Sharry to help me do that. The above poem was written 3 years before my diagnosis. The promise it speaks of, the surrender and release, is still a struggle some days.

A funny thing happened on Friday after I posted my blog. I opened my new Time magazine to a Verizon ad with the caption, "Suddenly the only thing holding you back is nothing." Think I should sue?