My birthday is two weeks away. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but this year is different. This year I turn 40...
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Our last conversation was about trivial stuff -- his farm, my kids, me teasing him about needing a girl for the back of his bike. Our conversation left unfinished, hanging, waiting for him to get back from his trip and fill me in on the details.
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Attachment -- I worried it wouldn't come with my youngest, but it crashed down on me like a tidal wave.
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Last July, my brother died. I still can't write about him. I'm not ready. Someday I will be ready, but that day is not today. That day won't be tomorrow. I need more time to process the finality, the "goneness", of his death and the impact it has on me.
What I can do, though, is tell you a little story about some glasses. These glasses...
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As the weeks remaining in this pregnancy diminish, so to shrinks my to-do list. There are still a lot of things left on it but they seem a little less insurmountable, a fraction less overwhelming. As I work through it on automatic pilot, my thoughts wander.
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I'm 35 weeks pregnant now. If my labour history holds true, I've about a month left in my pregnancy. This weekend I wrote up our massive "to do" list of things that need to be done before our last baby arrives -- before our daughter is born and fills that last little corner of our family. It's a long list...
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