Yesterday I went to the post office to mail off the packages to Mr. Y. for Christmas. There were several people in line with their boxes, christmas cards and overnight mail. I thought of them standing there and wondered if there was anyone there in the same predicament as I am. Mailing off packages to a loved one over seas. While the rest of the public is waiting for a package from sisters and brothers here in the states, there are those of us who are sending off little pieces of love to the ones who are in war zones. There are no guarantees they will receive them before Christmas (or whatever holiday they are celebrating), but we try.
The postal worker recognized me and reminded me (again) about the dating the custom's form. I always seem to forget. I dread going to the post office for this. I don't have a problem with the post office, but I dread the reason I had to go. It's like facing reality and having my face rubbed in it. The other part is that I have to face several things at the same time and they are all related to him being gone. Christmas, Anniversary, New Years...
Sarah and I were invited by my folks to go to the beach for our anniversaries. This too put his absence right in the forefront of my mind. I try most of the time to not think about it, but when it's right there, I have no choice than to address it directly. He will never understand the impact his absence has had on all of our lives.
Thanks for sticking with me for this. It's nice to know you are here.
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