A hummingbird and a Carolina Wren helped me exorcise his ghost

I don't know what led me here tonight but I was a the Atlanta Botanical Gardens for their Thursday evening Cocktails in the Garden event.  I was there for music, flowers, and a drink.  But when the flute and piano duo took a break, my feet lead me to the Perennial Garden.  I have always loved this garden for the diversity of its flowers.  And in this garden is a bench where my ex-husband would always sit, disappearing into his phone as he impatiently waited for me to take the photos I wanted to take.

He sat there so many times, I felt like his ghost remained.  I realized today that I, myself, had never actually sat on that bench.  And so I sat down and pulled out my journal and this is what I wrote.

"In honor of my beloved wife Diane Pennington"

A well worn bench,

uneven slates, seams coming apart,

covered in green and white lichen,

a plaque dedicating it to a beloved wife

Here, his ghost sits

head bent over

his phone in his hand

unreachable, far removed

I chuckle at the irony

a bench to remember a beloved wife

became an oasis of avoidance

of another wife's love

I sit down

the uneven curve of the seat

feels unfamiliar beneath me

I gaze out at the view

A hummingbird pauses briefly

joining my company

A Carolina Wren sings

as a breeze whispers

His absent presence fades

as colorful flowers, fragrance,

and a joyful melody

wrap me in an embrace

I sit a bit longer

breathing in, before moving on

A bit later, the clouds open up

drowning the last remnants of his ghost