from my journal:
"I walk to the den, the upstairs den where we sat so companionably for months into years. We would sit parallel and one of us would bring the other their coffee and some 'Jesus toast' (Ezekiel bread) or oatmeal.
The room is full of books and papers and mail in need of sorting and remnants of laundry to be folded.
The morning feels pregnant and like the meaning will overwhelm me. The kinds of sounds that come from too much air being held inside that come out like a heave, escape my mouth from my chest.
I am looking for the springtime book of hours. It is Sunday, February 5 and I am entering something that will be hard and precious. It will be too much to wake to each new day that will be a 'this day last year' kind of day.
Of course, I will use his hours book this time instead of my own weathered one. Of course, I will open the book he held so reverently and hopefully for all our springs together.
But just the holding of it now feels like the more.
Brennan comes in and asks me to play words with friends - it is my turn and i have not played in 3 days or more.
I say yes, but would you read the hours to me and he does.
"Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought me in safety to this new day. Preserve me with your mighty power, that I may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all I do direct me to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ my Lord. Amen.