I forgot about the fireflies
I just walked down to get the mail ... which I rarely do at night ... preferring to grab it in the morning after my run. But I have to hustle tomorrow, as I am picking up Lorri in Fort and we are driving to Neenah for Zoe's bridal shower and its noon start. Getting it tonight also gives me time to react to or process whatever emergency IRS notice or "Jim surprise" might be in there, so tomorrow can run as smoothly -- with as few tears -- as possible. The walk isn't a long one, exactly. But the nervous anticipation gets me every time. I almost can't remember when I didn't worry about what might show up in the mailbox. That daily pit in my stomach is just a fact of life now ... and has been since you left. And tonight, the task is extra unpleasant. It's so hot and humid you can taste the air. It lands on your skin and just sits there, clinging like a suffocating, invisible wet wool sweater that is palpably heavy on my chest and on my heart. As soon as I ste...