Sorrow

Unadulterated angst below. Beware. 

I spent the morning doing everything I could NOT to burst into tears every half minute. This was a fairly successful endeavor until we got onto post and Luke was getting his hair cut, at which time I had to go to the car because I just couldn't handle it anymore.

Our last morning was uneventful -- or eventful with the kind of things that fill all of our mornings, or at least have until now. Things like trying to make the baby sleep one.minute.more, cooking and eating breakfast together, checking various sports scores for no apparent reason, making the bed. Rather droll, really. 

Unfortunately it is those mundane things that make up life with a person. It isn't during anomalies in your day that absence is noticed; it is the person's usual presence during the ordinary that creates the gapping hole I now feel.

Last night while laying in bed for the last time for who knows how long with my husband I brain blogged a truly depressing epistle enumerating my sorrows. Those words have escaped me now. Rather than dragging this on and on ad nauseum, then, I am just going to cut it short with this one truth:

My heart hurts.