Days Like This

And then there are days like today. When I am called to make soup,  with onions and celery and carrots and ginger.  It is my version of Miso soup, hearty with many vegetables.  I slice and dice and sauté and stir while classical music plays in the background.

I go to make a cup of tea, staring out the window at the garden filling in beyond.  As I take in a deep breath of the Earl Grey, music in the background, and the soup cooking on the stove, it hits me.  How much I miss him.

Amongst the sizzling onions, and wafting steam, and the scent of garlic and Earl Grey.  How very much I miss him.

I grasp my belly as I consider escaping the feeling, finding relief in some other task to do. My taxes need reviewing, the trash sits full, the dishes are dirty, my emails are waiting.  But instead I choose to let it come.  To rise up and overflow the banks, to welcome the grief rather than push it away.

It is nearly spring.  Daylight savings is around the corner, the days are getting longer.  There are the sounds of birds calling for their mates, and flowers are bursting out in bloom. But on a day like today, I sit myself on the couch, letting myself sink into its welcoming arms.  We have become good friends, my couch and I.

Tea in hand, tissue nearby, I let it rise, overflow its banks.  How much I miss him.


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