It has been some time since I last posted here. I’ve been doing some thinking about many things, including the thoughts that I have captured on this blog. It struck me how intensely personal some of those thoughts were, perhaps too much of a peak into the mind of the grieving widow. Writing it down did help me tremendously and continues to do so, so after much consideration I decided to keep on making entries here as the mood strikes me. It serves much like a diary for me, and one day I will go back and read what I wrote, but I am not at that point yet.
I think that I am entering a transition period, and not by choice. I don’t usually recall my dreams, but in the last few days I have had the same snippet appear repeatedly, from night to night. It is always Kevin, giving me kiss and a hug and telling me, no asking me, to let him go. Gently, with a soft voice and a comforting kiss, making a request that I can’t entertain yet. For, if I do have even a bit of him still, I want to hang onto it. But the thought is there in my mind, why is that? If I were to ask my kids I am sure they would tell me that there is a heck of a band forming in the great beyond and Kev wants to be part of it. Rock ‘n roll heaven.
I know he will keep asking and I know that one day I will have to say okay. Okay, and thank you my love.