I’m writing this on the eve of David’s birthday — he would have been 68 tomorrow — and he is still so very much missed. But in the midst of the missing, I am so frequently flooded with fond memories of our nearly forty years together, I find myself more often smiling and feeling grateful than weeping and feeling sorry for myself. Admittedly, there are a few of those moments, too.
But I am so profoundly glad we had both the opportunity to have so many adventures together and the . . . whatever it took to grab onto them with both hands. I think about so many great times in La Rochelle . . .
. . . and on the Outer Banks . . .
. . . and Folly Beach . . .
. . . and Key West . . .
. . . and of course, Sunapee . . .
. . . and so many more. None of these are possible right now, so I’m enjoying the memories and making the most of being home. I’m still taking my weekly French lessons via Skype and doing a lot of writing as part of those. Apparently I’m writing my memoirs . . . in French. 😉
Although I haven’t needed to buy gas for my car since February, I have taken a few bike rides recently, loving the cool of a summer evening, and occasionally finding something so gorgeous, I have to stop and snap a photo . . .
. . . but I’m still very much a home-body, while this pandemic tortures so many. There just haven’t been many good reasons to go out. The bike trail at dusk is a pretty good one, though.
I remember David and I had such big plans for our new bikes and all the rides we would take together. That didn’t happen, but it is certainly something I can enjoy on my own.
Our lives are not going quite the way we had imagined they would. I don’t think anyone would say they are. So many are suffering so many losses right now. All the anguish in the news has been so troubling, I spent an evening in the ER a few weeks ago and had to follow up with a cardiologist. But it’s heartache, not heart disease, fortunately.
So for now I start my day with as much of God’s peace as I can soak in. Then I read as much good news as possible, and there’s more than you might think. Of course it’s important to stay informed, and I do, but I have to try to resist the pull of the black hole of endless heartbreaking and/or infuriating news stories and videos.
I hope you are finding ways to cope as well. One of the few things I can do is offer you a bit of beauty and a few words of encouragement. Please know I hold you in my heart. There’s room for you there as well as David.