There's White Stuff, & Then There's White Stuff

Dear John,

 

It was cool today, down into the 30s last night. We closed the windows and turned on the heat. I didn't get out to walk. Nobody else did, either - the beach was deserted. But the sun was shining and the balcony was out of the wind. So I sat there for morning prayer, and watched the sun come up.

 

I haven't felt very good today. I think the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome caught up with me. I've been expecting that, and today was a good day for it. And I've been a bit sad today - it's been 19 months today since you died. I didn't mention that to anybody else. There's no point in making everybody sad.

 

I wonder how long I will keep counting months. It's starting to sound a bit silly. But my brain keeps ticking off the numbers anyway. I can see myself, down the road, telling some poor innocent bystander that I lost my husband 129 months ago. I guess my mind will stop when it gets ready to stop. In the meantime, feel free to laugh at me.

 

I think I told you that it snowed at home. I finally found out how much this "first major snow" was - it was a coating. We have more white stuff on the ground here. Of course, here it's sand. But I couldn't resist showing you this.

 

I'm going to head to bed soon, because I'm waking up before 6 AM and I really do need to sleep sometime. I love you, miss you, wish you were here.

 

Adore you,

Joan.