My Beloved and I just went for a very chilly walk. It's a beautiful night though - it was definitely worth the cold cheeks, chin and partly frozen thighs. There's a light snow falling and it looks so beautiful against the smattering of Christmas lights that are already up and lit for the season.
I can't believe It's November. It seems like yesterday that we were sweltering and suffering through smog day after smog day. I know I've said this before, but really and truly I have no idea where the time is going. It feels like at this rate I'll be 80 before we have dinner tomorrow night.
Anyway, as I always do when we're out walking at night, I looked at the empty space between my shadow and My Beloved's. It's Thomas' spot and I always imagine him there, snug between the two of us. I know it's nuts, but I keep thinking one day I might catch a glimpse of his little shadow too - just a whisper of it, maybe out of the corner of my eye.
It wasn't there today, but I held out my hand anyway. I saw the shadow of my mittened hand fill part of the space between us and I said in my head, "Hold mommy's hand". Then I closed mine.
And I kept on walking.
It's a stupid little ritual that only a crazy lady in mourning would do, but it keeps him close. And I don't think there's anything crazy about wanting that.