Days of the week are flying by. The weeks are screaming by too. And we're nearly half way through May? It's not that I mind, not at all. More than anything I notice how different my routine is.
The world keeps spinning madly on. Fingers fly over the keyboard, communicating with my beloved community right next door and thousands of miles away. Getting things done here there and everywhere. My book is one of my main focuses right now so I charge ahead. (Oh just wait! It's going to be good. Really, really good.)
And then it hits me. A Radiohead song sends me back in time, back to a place that I haven't been in a while. One where I feel alone and the waves of loss wash over me. A lump builds in my throat. My shaggy dog whines from the other room to comfort me. I guess that sob was out loud. Or maybe she's just hungry.
If you've ever lost someone close to you, you know what I mean. If you haven't you will eventually.
It's not that I haven't created a new wonderful life. One that I am thankful for each and every day. I wouldn't trade my life for anything. It really is beautiful, unique and full of abundance.
It's just that sometimes it still hits me without warning. A song, a smell, a taste, a sign that from another dimension letting me know that he thinks about me and misses me too.