Open Letter to My Sweetheart on Jan 8, 2014...

It's January 8th, little sweetheart and I'm sitting on your bed in NorCal. I flew out at Xmas and was supposed to fly back Sunday night but my flight was canceled. Finally, yesterday, I got in touch with the airline and they can get me out via SFO this Friday. I almost never fly from there because it's where you always picked me up and it makes me so sad. But, ya know what, my love? It's time that I try harder. It's time I not be so afraid how much it will hurt to really immerse myself in your memory. It's a new year. My third without you. And I promise, my darling, to work hard, to listen for you and tell our stories. This year. Now. And then I can go. Then I can find release. Then I know I will be able to come to you. Then I imagine you collecting me just as you did at the airport so many times, your blue Prius taking the curve, seeing you through the windshield. Running to you as you smiled your million kilowatt love and waved, pulling to the curb, getting out in your little yoga pants and a cute little t-shirt, your gorgeous red hair piled atop your head, rushing into my arms. Just like I imagine you collecting me soon at Arrivals once I've left this mortal plane and asking me to drive, telling me in a rush, all the things I need to know about The Beautiful New Place, how we can be in anyplace all at the same time and that's why it looks just like arriving in San Francisco. That we will always be together now. That all time is for all time. I can't wait, baby. I can't hardly wait...