The house is empty, just me. How rare that is these days. The barely driven car had to go in for maintenance, and Steve took on the job of doing it. How odd this is. He was sent a checklist of how the visit would be handled, so as to ensure a measure of safety.
We’ve been together full-time with a few simple breaks for four months now, and I pause to feel this shift. Both kitties are taking their morning naps; birds are singing, and there’s a place inside that feels and fingers the change.
When I watch my grandchild on video and see him in pictures, I see how his fingers are always apart, each one given space. I do that now, feel the air as grace.
We’re used to being together, my husband and me, two hands clasped, and today a few hours allow an opening in our togetherness, an examination of wholeness as we each taste a wider space.