Perhaps...

We cannot fully grieve 

until we can remember more fully

what we have lost.

I've cried buckets this morning,

listening to a James Taylor CD and remembering

singing along over so many miles travelled on so

many trips Rob and I took to so many

wonderful places.

The more I listen, the more I realize how very

absent Rob had been in so many ways 

and for so long.

The changes were so subtle, and yet, by the time

he left, he was so much less than who he

wanted to be, physically and mentally, 

and it seems, in retrospect, that there was nothing 

either of us could do to change that.

I realize how little we were travelling;

how little we were listening to these songs;

how little we were engaging in real conversation;

how little we were connecting the ways we had in the past.

My tears today are coming so freely

because I miss Rob,

because I couldn't see then what I am able to see now,

because we were doing the best we could 

to make the best of where we were,

together and apart.

I'm crying for the Rob who started his leaving

way before he actually left.

I do miss him.

Even though it doesn't change a thing,
it feels like a step in the
"right" direction.

“All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”

― Julian of Norwich