Sometimes the sun shines. And my heart is full. We have plans to walk to the fire department and visit my Husband at work tonight. He worked a 12 at the ambulance company yesterday and today is his 24 hour shift. The boys will be happy to see him. As will I.

He’s been amazing in light of everything that has been going on with me this year. He celebrated with me after my first published piece arrived. He holds me tightly when I need to cry. He knows when I need to laugh and how, exactly, to make me do so. After the Angry Canadian episode a week or so ago, he took my hands in his and assured me that nothing I have done or said or dwelt on or grieved over has made him doubt my love for him or my devotion to our family. He constantly praises my parenting, my attention to our home and the work that I do as a writer.

You may need me there
to carry all your weight
but you’re no burden I assure

I’ve been blessed by his presence, that’s for sure. He lets me be the fiercely independent woman I need to be and he lets me lean on him when I need to do so. He doesn’t ask stupid questions; he knows the answers. He doesn’t say stupid things. Okay. Well, he does as he’s a man and I’m a woman and we view things differently. But when it comes to Munchkin, he always seems to know how to respond. I know this comes from his love for her. I have no doubt.

I know I would survive this journey without him… but it wouldn’t be as loving and as real without his presence.

During my week of silence, I threw myself into books. And music. And lyrics. And quotes. And anything but blogs. (Yes, that includes yours. Apologies.) I needed to step away from the internet world and drown myself in physically written word.

It’s inspiring, you know.

Books. With paper pages. And songs. With words that make you feel something other than empty. Thoughts that aren’t my own. Unrealistic thoughts. Fictional thoughts. Far-fetched, fabulous and lovely thoughts. And the quotes, of course, by people with experiences far different from my own but still so relevant, so timely.

And I feel inspired. Not even necessarily to write.

I need to read right now. And no, still not your blogs. Books. With paper pages. Oh, how I love the way that books smell. It’s a glorious, beautiful scent. I need to throw myself into fictional experiences. And the experiences of others. (Though, I think I’m done with parenting books for a bit. Whew. What a rough two months on that front! God bless Pantley and her books!)

I get away from reading every now and then as life throws curve balls and I swing at the high ones. And miss. But it’s good to be back. Perhaps I don’t quite need to be reading the particular book that I’m reading right now (Girl, Interrupted) as it’s slightly triggering but, then again, maybe it’s what I need right now. Who knows.

Someday. Someday someone will read my book. But for now,  I read, read, read.