This visit to the Northeast has been different.
I have laughed a lot.
Then I've choked back unexpected tears when I see a face of an old friend.
I've gripped the hands across the table of someone I've missed.
Looked in their eyes to see a long journey, too. I see a sailor who has sailed, just like I thought he would.
A wedding. Coffee at night. Coffee in the morning. Hikes. Wildflower search with toddlers. Hide and seek under a harvest moon. Christmas carols to a generation soon leaving us.
Cleaned up spilled milk. Spilled water. Spilled juice.
Consoled tired tears. Disciplined wild spirits. Fell exhausted onto a couch after a full day.
I find myself desiring something I can't put my finger on. Something that feels a little
when I first wake up. Before M opens her eyes curled up next to me, her little nose pressed against my arm. The window is frosted over and my toes wiggle just to make sure there's warmth there.
Those few moments of blinking and stirring, I just feel empty and so alone.
More than ever before.