A boy was playing with bean bags toss on the front lawn of a business today. I first thought of my failed attempt to get Constance to play with bean bags. Then, I had to use all my strength not to go over to him and explain he should be throwing the bags underhand, not overhand. I resisted. He was having fun, so why should scoring matter. In the hole left by Constance, I have a lot of energy I have to focus on not using to parent stranger’s children.
If Constance was with me, I probably wouldn’t have noticed that boy or, if I had, it wouldn’t have only been in terms of how his actions related to Constance’s. It seems every thought, every cell of my body, is reacting to the world differently now that Constance is gone. And yet, on some occasions, I forget she’s gone at all and want to go pick her up.