Monday, August 15, 2016

You don't text...

This morning I woke with a start and grabbed my phone. It was after 7am and you hadn't texted to tell me you had arrived at work safely. My mind raced to the text I was about to type, "Hey, where are you? Get there safe? I love you." Then the emergency brake in my mind activated and I realized: You aren't going to text. You aren't safe at work. You'll never text me from work again.

No, we hadn't had our morning kisses good-bye.  Our tradition - if I'm in bed you kiss me, but then I run to the stairs to kiss you again - or sometimes you want me to rest, so you just come back.  Or when I'm downstairs and we kiss at the door, you walk to the edge of the porch, I say, "Wait..." I meet you as you step down a step so our height is more equal and we kiss again, you lightly pulling my lip in. I watch you walk to the car and tell you , "Drive safe." You either say, "Yes, dear" or "I'm going to drive recklessly, ha ha."  33 years of this - even when we were mad about something, you still always kissed me and returned to kiss me again.

I don't know why I hadn't been hit hard by the no at-work-now text until today. Maybe it is because I slept almost 8 hours. Oh, I did wake up in the middle of the night, feet cold, stress tensing my body, but I beat it back and fell back asleep and dreamed. I dreamed that I had a book published. You always wanted me to do that. You told me again and again that I was the best writer you knew and that I needed to write a book, to write children's books, to write anything because you knew whatever I wrote would be great. The book I started is on the computer that broke - I'll get the stuff from the hard drive off soon and I'll finish it...and you will be in it. Lots of things about you.

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