And time just moves forward.

As New Year’s approaches, it’s always a little hard for me.  Another year.  Another year without Cora.  Another year further from holding her, touching her, whispering gently to her.  Another year further away.

Sometimes I wish I knew the exact date of my death.  Morbid? Maybe.  I don’t long to die.  I have way too much to live for right now.  People who need me more than Cora does.  Whom I need as much as Cora (and since there are 3 of them, they win).  But if I knew I was going to die, say, August 4, 2065, then I could count down.  “55 years, 7 months and 1 week until I see Cora again.”

It’s not to say I don’t appreciate my time here.  I’m grateful for every day.  But you can be grateful for the time you have while still looking forward to what it will be like.

I have an image in my mind of what it’ll be like.  It’ll probably be a million times more beautiful than anything I can imagine.

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