We did have storms last night. The cat slept at my feet, and the dog sat on my head. So I suppose everything is normal around here. Or, at least, as is usual for us. There was some thunder this evening while it was still light. Jethro wasn't hindered a bit by the sun - he sat in my lap and shivered until it all went away. Aren't you glad I'm guarded by such a courageous dog? I'm not sure the cat's bravery is any more useful. Right now he's in the window sill stalking the petunias that are outside in the window box and are moving in the breeze. I think I'm on my own here.
I'm feeling a bit wistful tonight. I'm not sad, just wistful. A couple of hours ago I really wanted to call somebody up and talk on the phone for a while. But I wanted to talk to somebody that thinks I'm the most important person in the world, and I don't have anybody like that on my calling plan. Plenty of people don't have anybody like that, but between you and Mama, I always did. Now it's different. Besides being on my own against storms and waving petunias, I'm on my own emotionally. I don't mean that I don't have people who love me - I'm blessed with lots of them. But I don't have that one person anymore, and some days I feel that lack.
So I come here to talk to you. The Internet is everywhere, so I know you can read this! And I know you are with me. I just have to take part of the conversation on faith. Those faith muscles have gotten a lot bigger in the last year, and it's gotten easier. I feel better already for having talked to you.
So see, even death can't get you out of having to talk to me! And I'm just teasing you, because I know you've always loved our conversations. Thank you for that wonderful verbal intimacy, for your honesty and transparency. Thank you for loving me, always and forever!
Adore you eternally,