I woke up from a weird dream. Philip and I were at an airport in a different country. He had to hurry and catch a flight, would barely make it to get to the gate in time. He left me to run ahead and before I even expected it, the plane was backing away from the terminal to fly away. I couldn't believe Philip made it in time and started to walk around to the gate to see if he was still there, but couldn't find him. I did find a large grouping of our friends and they and many children were all piling around a group of picnic tables to eat, so I joined them.
I woke up and heard spring birds singing in the forsythia bush outside my window. A different breeze blew. Not the steam engine wind that howls and destroys trees and barns, but a gentle breeze. Even before 6:30 in the morning, the daylight greeted me instead of the dark of winter.
I feel sad. Heavy. Weary and in pain.
But I hope.