Another year – all the seasons, all the celebrations, all the drama. The kids have missed their dad and he has missed it all, again. I have missed him with an ache that is now so much a part of me I don’t go anywhere without it – it’s a shadow that drifts across my heart whether I’m happy or sad. It’s his shadow.
I wonder what he’d think about where we are in the world right now. I wonder what he’d think about how fast the kids are growing up or about his grandson. I wonder what he’d think about the pandemic, the news, the weather, the price of fish. I wonder. I wonder but I know.
When I look at the heavens full of stars and the moon silhouetting the trees the ache of missing him is almost too much. When the sun sparkles on ocean waves, when rain washes the world, when laughter fills a room, when a little boy asks me to dance – the missing reminds me to cherish the moment. The missing has become who I’m sharing my life with. The missing is him.
Three years.
Comments (1)
He will always be missed, that is the way it should be…you have come a long way baby!!!