Bags are packed. My travel clothes are waiting.. The apartment is neat, ready for my return. Sharon has made our departure easy and at 6AM, I’m filling up on Mika and Joe as they continue to bash Republicans for continuing to support Trump- yes, I’m soaking it up!
It’s all good on one level. The outward trappings of life reject movement and health. I force myself off the couch, out the door, into the world. I hear you, feel your hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me up. I kept you smiling, sometimes laughing and you kept me moving… of course there was so much more but I had something you needed and you had something I needed. We shared…
Now…what is this life without you? I keep asking that question as I try and create it, shape it, try to live it with meaning. I am trying to enjoy living without you. I am not alone. I listen, I watch others in my shoes, deeper shoes, trudging along and I push out of feeling sorry for myself to feel something for those who are grieving/suffering all around me.
I don’t really want to move off this couch. This spot is the source of my peace but I can’t allow myself to get too rooted. It’s where I could stagnate in sadness.
“Get up Bonnie Shurum. It’s time for a journey. Remember, you are my soul.”
I miss us Tuvia Rosenberg. Once more, just us…