December 2
Today is her birthday. I wish I was there to pull back the covers from her sleepy head and kiss her tired cheeks and neck good morning. I'd whisper a "happy birthday" before the day even began. It makes me smile to think of her enjoying her birthday, surrounded by her kids, maybe a family visit or well-wishes, too. And lots of friends wishing her a happy day. It's Sunday, so I hope she sleeps in. I'd love to sleep in with her and wake to a lazy day full of stuff like a late breakfast, some sports on tv, maybe a brisk walk around the neighborhood or to the park and a hurry-home jaunt home to brace ourselves from the cold with hot chocolate. I'd love to hold her on the couch with me, sit her on my lap, enjoy her lazy-day-crazy hair and just be. All of this could have been. S he could have been mine. Our children could cuddle with us, piled on haphazardly in perfect unity, love, and devotion. My heart races when I think of us like that. My m...