Lois, Come Home

It's been two weeks. Seems like about ½ a year. Many insects don't even live that long.  But time really drags.

So much happens in that span of time. Just not to me. Or maybe what is happening just pales in comparison to what isn't happening. No soft, understanding touch. No sitting and watching her work on something, become frustrated and scrunch up her face or experience success and beam.

She left me. Again. This time for a younger man. Actually, two other men – a younger man and a really younger man. And a lady. For the last two weeks she has spent her time going shopping, going out to eat, going to the park, pushing around toy trucks and cars on the floor, watching videos called Dora and Wiggles, playing golf (in the house,) and making a variety of food stuff. Pretty much what she did when she left me last time for two really younger men, a young lady, and a not quite as young (but still younger) lady and man.

My heart is thankful she can and does take the time to build the memories that are being created. It perpetuates what I know of the Browns, both past an current. And it will perpetuate itself in various ways with the Browns' and Fernandes' of the future.

But it is now time to put my heart back together again. As Monday draws closer, I become more anxious. I know she'll remember me. (It hasn't really been THAT long.) I hope she remembers how I like to hold her close. And walk holding her hand. And watch her smile.

Until then, I'll have MY memories.