This morning after 12 hours sleep, I suddenly found myself sipping coffee, reviewing my To Do list for the week, thinking deeply, and watching the birds.
Without thought, I slipped into writing some notes, and realised this is what I used to do every morning: use a quiet time to gather my energy for the day. It was, and is, when I refreshed my soul for the day to come. How wonderful to have that special time back again. Like a deep breath of air. I had forgotten the simple pleasure of it and the relaxation it brought to the beginning of a new day.
Don, from several accounts, has decided I died. This would explain my absences, and he seems strangely calm about it. It makes sense. His agitation and shadowing was based on fear of losing me because he knew something of what I was doing to care for him: “What would happen to me? I need you.”
Now the situation has clearly changed, he knows not why, but he is fed and cared for.
But there’s still a bit of the old spark left. We went out for a walk the other day and he asked, “Where are you living these days?” I quickly decided not to say Home because that is just a very confusing word, so I said, “Oh I have an apartment round here.”
Ten minutes passed with various distractions, then, “Do you have a car here? Is it good?”
Me, secretly amused, “Yes.”
Another long interlude, while he put the pieces together and then he said, “So you must have a bed there where we could spent the night together.” I said, “Oh but they have lunch for us here,” and that satisfied.