It’s interesting how such a small space can scream and whisper of so much blessing.
Tonight, I think about your nights sleeping right over there by the TV.
I think about the night you hopped in the car and came with me, when he was being born.
I think about packing and unpacking and sitting here, and falling asleep talking to you over and over and over again.
I think about how it’s protected. Silent, if I’d like it to be, except the familiar passing train.
I think about how I sit and think about those people. You’re inpatient again. You’ll probably end up one of my best friends.
I think about how it all feels like a story. It must just be a novel that I grabbed with a mug of hot chocolate one day. Because this can’t be real.
I think about love. And every day, whether you’re close or far, what we feel.
I’m blessed, for each sparkle in your eye. Each a reminder that hope is alive. Each time you get upset, and each time I see there’s on that phone, a new message. There’s a lot to learn about Truth while we live. There’s a lot to learn about love when we dive in. It doesn’t matter where you are, and it really doesn’t matter where we’ve been. There’s something that’s made a work in us, that reminds me each one of these nights that we know a love that will always let us live, again and again.
Thank you for knowing the words to a novel that I’ll never be able to write for the world.
You know 207 is another beautiful piece.
(Take all the time you need. You know where we’ll be. But remember love. Just never forget. And say what’s on your mind. I won’t lie; I miss you.)
…because love wins.