When my wife is home, he sleeps cradled with her in the bed.
It's like he's ticked off that she's not here.
Goddess, our Golden Retriever with a bit of Boarder Collie in her, remains the same ... sleeping in the bedroom doorway as though to protect us from whatever may come in the night.
The house is incredibly quiet.
Well except for the Beach Music I blast anyway but other than that ... I don't hear three little girls slamming doors, watching Netflix from bed or dropping plates while fixing breakfast.
Winston, TLGD, isn't head butting the bedroom door after being let outside to get back in bed with Sarah.
Gypsy, the formerly gender confused cat, doesn't shoot up and down the stairs to caress the girls then suddenly remember we're here too and rush back to show us love.
Even the happy sounds of the Beach Music sounds muted.
Plus it's raining.
Talk about a melancholy morning!
A few short years ago it was always like this.
It was just Goddess and me then and I blasted happy music to numb myself to the constant hurt, depression and loneness.
Then Sarah and I threw caution ... and most everything else ... to the wind, got married, doubled the number of children and it's HELL ON WHEELS ever since!
Actually HEAVEN ON WHEELS is a better description.
Heaven isn't perfect with it's slamming doors, constant Netflix, dropping plate and head butting dogs but ... I'm sure missing it today.
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