I didn't think Thursday would bother me. I hadn't spent Thanksgiving away from Chicago in a number of years. I'd usually stay here and either spend it alone, with Frankie's family, or with friends. I was wrong... By Wednesday night, it had hit me. I wouldn't be calling Nanny on Thursday. I wouldn't have a chance to talk with her about our plans. I wouldn't be able to ask about recipes, about her plans with Gene, Aunt Pansy, or anyone else.
It's almost been 6 months. Some days, I find myself smiling and laughing. Other days are filled with rage and heartache. Still, more days are filled with numbness, emptiness. I never know what each day will bring, much less each moment.
I don't have a lot to write tonight. I know it's been awhile since I put anything down in writing. Part of that is the busyness of the semester. The rest is simply not knowing what to say. I'm preaching twice in the next month and a half, and I have no idea what my words will be. I'd rather just spend my downtime watching movies and sleeping, but alas, I don't have the option.
I'll write more later. For now, it's time to sleep...