It's back. That dreaded day is back.
I spent the weekend with my family, enjoying where we grew up and watching a new life unfold onstage in the form of my mother's latest "baby." It was a lovely way to spend the weekend.
But today still came. I woke up. I read in bed. I got up right around the same time as I did two years ago. But today is different, of course. Today, I didn't have to rush down the stairs when Lee came to tell me what he's discovered. But he is at the forefront of my mind. I drank a cup of coffee and thought about him. I moved the laundry along and thought about him. Etcetera ad nauseum.
And so I've been contemplating all the wondrous ways you all reached out to me (and us) on this day and in the days after. As I closed my dresser drawer having pulled out some clothes for today, about 3 sweet seconds of music box tinkling occurred.
I don't have a music box. I opened and closed the drawer again. No response. I looked through the drawers a bit in case there was something in there that would produce that. Nothing.
So he sent me a song, and I treasure it. Rest on, little man.