To Do So, Still
How grounded it was
from our very beginnings.
New layers emerged
as our babies arrived
and we two
became four.
Such inspiring and challenging
years those were -
nurturing, marveling,
processing together
as they grew
and we did, too.
On the day you died,
even before I knew,
I felt something rush to me,
over me,
through me
as I turned into the
hospital drive -
like an ocean wave
rolling onto a beach,
saturating every grain of sand
and all the space between.
Somewhere within
I sensed it was you,
your love.
I have felt it in the years since,
though heartache and doubt
sometimes interrupt the flow.
Now, though,
I am learning
to honor its continuity,
trust the truth of
its tides,
allow it to reflect, refresh,
and clear the way anew.
How fortunate we were
to experience such profound love
with each other and our children.
How blessed I am to do so, still.
I can look up and out,
down and in,
anywhere at all.
And there it is…
the soft, reassuring glow
of the infinite Love
we share.
How grounded it was
from our very beginnings.
New layers emerged
as our babies arrived
and we two
became four.
Such inspiring and challenging
years those were -
nurturing, marveling,
processing together
as they grew
and we did, too.
On the day you died,
even before I knew,
I felt something rush to me,
over me,
through me
as I turned into the
hospital drive -
like an ocean wave
rolling onto a beach,
saturating every grain of sand
and all the space between.
Somewhere within
I sensed it was you,
your love.
I have felt it in the years since,
though heartache and doubt
sometimes interrupt the flow.
Now, though,
I am learning
to honor its continuity,
trust the truth of
its tides,
allow it to reflect, refresh,
and clear the way anew.
How fortunate we were
to experience such profound love
with each other and our children.
How blessed I am to do so, still.
I can look up and out,
down and in,
anywhere at all.
And there it is…
the soft, reassuring glow
of the infinite Love
we share.
Sarah Carlson
January 7, 2026
January 7, 2026
