Reporting to Linds

If Hudson's 4 month birthday was a few weeks back, then so was the anniversary of Linds' death.

When R and I were still on the runway yesterday, awaiting a gate for our plane and feeling bad for ourselves, amidst grayness and drizzle, to be returning from holiday, I called dad.

As one of a pair of daughters, I was the un-communicating one. Lindsey had taken the role, even more so since mom's death, of reminding me a little before birthdays, anniversaries: call grandpop, father's day Court - get on it. With a phone perennially Quiet, I'm an emailer who needs admonishing to emerge from my tightly-held circle.

Like we do in family, I fell into and filled that role. Dad would no more expect me to check-in on landing then send an easter card, or remember his and sarah's wedding anniversary.

That's what Linds was for.

So, checking in with dad from the runway yesterday was a new jolt.

I was telling dad that R and I were home, safe on US tarmac.
But, as I filled Dad in on Bulgaria, and he on life in the last week, Hudson's movement and Thanksgiving plans, I had to stop myself from asking how Linds had been.

She would have been proud of me, checking in with Dad. But her training's been turned around, absorbed and needs an outlet.

I want to check in with Linds now, and tell her about Bulgaria. Last year I could.

C