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.