Missing You

I took this photograph of the chair you always sat in when I came to visit. Your cup of tea would be on the top of the cabinet and the New York Times would be on the bench. I was sitting in the "my" chair when I took this picture: on the day your children were emptying your house. You had been gone 6 weeks by then. Would have been wonderful to visit with you today. Nice spring weather. I baked an apple pie and plan to serve it with some heavy cream-- just like you always did.

I understand, now, why people always say they wish they had one more day or even one more minute to share with a loved one. One more afternoon. And then, of course, I'd want another. You were ready to go, but I wasn't ready to be left behind.

I was up early with the puppy and I will be walking him again as soon as I'm done with this post. I finished my pen and paper journal last night (the last page filled with writing) and got to write on the first page of the next, new journal. It has a red cover. I'm pretty excited about a new book. It is so hard to finish the old book. This is the second unfinished journal I have filled in 2008. Any biographer of mine will have their work cut out for them following my trail through these books. The journal I finished was begun in 2004. And others were started in 2005 and 2006. What a tangled web.

I sorted through a box of "kinda velvet" scraps and started sewing on the third section of my red piece. Nothing to show yet. I have things to do and here I sit typing, baking pies, walking the dog. Ever the procrastinator. The guy down the street has gotten himself sick--just to keep from finishing the taxes of several family members and himself. He wins.