I'm really missing your kids right now, kiddo.
Haven't seen or talked to them since Thanksgiving. They didn't even call me or text me to say Happy Birthday. (Christmas was sad, and they hadn't called me then, either, but there's no grudge there. I'm the one who had to cancel at the last minute.)Between the weather, my health, and my car's condition, I just haven't been able to get there. Seems like I'm farther away now than when you were in Georgetown and we were in Winchester.
There's no "we" anywhere now for me, not in Winchester, not in Bethel, not in our 'hub' of Mt. Orab. Tracy's miles away (good for her; I'm proud), and you and your daddy are gone.
I miss you, but this last few months I've finally begun adjusting to that. It's been a long hard pull, almost three years, but maybe I'm finally getting on. I guess I hope so, anyway.
It's those strange weeks between my birthday and yours,(also known as February) with Valentine's Day smack in the middle. That's always been a pleasant time for us, although I can't say anything specific that we've regularly done or shared. It's just that somehow, the month of February, at least right now, seems like the time we have usually been closest, as a matter of routine.
That probably doesn't make much sense, because it's really hard to explain. Mostly because I don't understand it myself. Maybe because it's one of those delusions that sneak up when one is bereaved. I don't know.
I miss you, but I know there's nothing to be done about that, except cherish memories and share photographs, I suppose.
And try to see your kids. I want to hear them and hug them so badly. Hopefully soon I'll be well enough and it will be warm and dry enough for me to make the drive.
In the meantime, you know if no one else does how often and how yearningly I think of them.
And you.
Be happy, my dear, wherever you are, in whatever form your energy is in.
I love you and miss you still.
