Saturday, April 14, 2012

I dreamed about Cindy last night, saw her clear as can be.  I almost NEVER remember my dreams and I'm frustrated that I don't remember any more than I do about this one.  That may be my only one or one of many to come, who knows.  But I'm grateful for the closeness of it.  Weekends are the hardest for me, I guess because to some extent life has to go on as planned during the week.  As caring and thoughtful that my 600 kids are at school they still need classes to go on as scheduled as well as all the other responsibilities of teaching.
So Friday comes along and life slows down...more time to think...and you're grateful for it but it's also tough.  I grilled out last night and spent time on the porch watching the sun blaze through the trees and birds happy as ever and it was a time that I would've normally called Cindy to see how her week was and to see what she was doing for the weekend.


Love ya and miss ya Sista!

1 comment:

  1. I totally agree, Karen--weekends are the hardest. I miss her beyond words every single day, but it is as if something inside of me aches--or really the dull achey pain that is there all week becomes a prominent throbbing pain--on Friday afternoon. She is such a part a part of me, of my life, of our life that is missing, and without the hustle and bustle of weekday life, the pain seems even harder to bear. Thank you so much for continuing to do this blog. I know it isn't easy for you, but I check it everyday and it is very therapeutic.

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