Dear T,
I made a serious effort to move back into the real world and I couldn’t. I love Ami and Adi’s guest bedroom but even with a wonderful bed in a very cool space, you call to me, I wake up and stay up and it it takes time to quiet my mind and drift back off.
So I was up at 6:30, just like Mia, but with a lot less sleep and after a quick shower, a cup of Israeli coffee and toast I was off before the meter maid caught me again without an updated stub in my car window. By 7:45 I was leaving Hoboken through our side streets shortcut but in rush hour there were slow lines of traffic all the way out of town and beyond.
I was driving without enough sleep and soon it was clear that even though I was hoping to make the HVWP meeting today in person, I knew that I couldn’t trust myself to hit Paramus and keep going up the Garden State and then the Thruway. I was half way back to Paramus and already calling Tom to ask him to beam me in with FaceTime. Of course, he understands, they all do. Do I?
The meeting began and everyone welcomed me and the conversation began. I tried to listen, I tried to contribute, I tired to keep focused.
I couldn’t. I was good for 20 minutes and then I was off. Another call interrupted Tom’s FaceTime and I took it. I couldn’t stay with my wonderful team.
I am just not ready for real time.
What am I ready for?
Alone time? That’s what I tried today.
I was at the house. I was at my apartment and I realized that place doesn’t matter.
There is a deep abyss that I live in now and I am without you everywhere.
Yes, for the last two days I’ve been in the bosom of the Rosenberg family and I will be back there tomorrow but there’s a larger issue at work here.
There’s no you here with me and that’s the reality I’ve been avoiding. It doesn’t matter where I sleep, right?
I have to get used to life from now on without you and that’s devastating.
A month without you,
Bonnie S.
You are in sorrow, but you are not alone, my friend.
👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
I’m reading your words, and thinking about you each day, Bonnie. Here’s another hug aiming your way.
I always appreciate and feel those hugs Linda
a special abiding presence appears, to me, to be with you–perhaps more subtle than a whisper, but calling nonetheless…
My heart aches for you with every word I read. Would you like to visit Missouri? 🙂 Arms would welcome you.