Saturday

It's raining.

I'm sitting in your room, or what used to be your room listening to the raindrops pattering on the roof, on the ground. 

It's quiet, peaceful in here, the candles glowing, the lamp lit. And so very dark outside.

Tomorrow is Easter, and I'm missing you. 

Today Linnaea and Elend hunted Easter eggs in the backyard; the joy and wonder on their faces was beautiful to see. As I watched understanding dawn on Elend's face, I was reminded of you shaking eggs with jelly beans in them, loving the rattling sound. 

Linnaea was so excited to find the eggs she colored that she would (sorta gently) toss them into the basket I had. I laughed, and made egg salad tonight with all the cracked ones. She helped peel them, too. 

Spring. New life. New hope. 

Oh, Aaron....

Did the disciples and His followers despair on Saturday? Did they wonder if everything was hopeless? Did the cry out in pain? What it must have been like for them, so hard. Was their agony also almost unbearable?

I am so grateful for the memories of you, the resurrection, for being able to see you again. But oh, tonight it seems so very, very far away and the memories seem illusions. 

I miss you....

"Memory is time folding back on itself."

~Garth Stein