Allow me to repeat myself. Wrote this last week.

Sometimes the fading of daylight signals loss and dimming of spirit and it causes me heartache. 

It’s just evening. It used to offer mood, maybe even a melancholy mood, but not this — a crux informed by vulnerability and loss. 

Sometimes it’s the wind. (I know! I know I keep pointing this out but you can’t believe how inescapable the wind is).

Today the gusty air blew grief all around me. Season and direction did not matter. Its relentless tempo felt personal, antagonistic.

I am lately better at avoiding some circular thinking that clutches at my throat but today duked it out with this question: what might I have done differently had I known he was only going to live for 30 years? Home schooling? Better, more exotic travel? A condo in Boulder ten years ago?

I turn away — better not to mull on “what if’s.” 

But where do I go when the wind demands my attention and the failing light robs me of peace?