morning visit with baby and her. Loss has opened up these moments and it certainly doesn't redeem anything but I am ever grateful.
breakfast is the same most days. apples, plain yogurt, granola. I don't grow tired of it because I don't grow tired of the ease of knowing. I want more ease.
my pen makes a raspy whoosh ... whoosh ... whoosh ... mark making soothes me.
the panic beats in my heart again today. i'd like to ignore it, not admit it but pushing it to the back is not the answer. let's just give a little quiet noticing, OK?
the washer rumbles as background noise. he does the laundry. and today it is an act of purposefulness. the clothes will be packed tomorrow.
and that probably explains the panic. hello little thumping heart. I hear you and I am here.
sipping cold coffee now. too settled to get up and take it back to the microwave for the second ... third ... time.
the windows are open, breezy curtains flutter behind me. the door creaks open and then a little slam. and again. today the weather feels soft.
Outside sounds drift inward. music made up of bird songs and nail guns tap tap tapping and vehicles revving and barking dogs.