I go to one therapist who I can really talk to about the big, “spiritual” kinds of questions; she’s wonderful.

And another who I can gripe to about more “daily” kinds of challenges…

My best friend, she’s available day or night.

And Cleo, she’s a decent snuggler, but come on, she’s a dog.

I’ve been to the cancer support group, and the widows support group, and I am participating in a 6-week “Journey Through Grief” workshop…where I get to talk all about you, me, life and loss.

I can also call my mom, she understands loss.

Your brother sends clever emails loaded with English humor that remind me of you.

I am sure your old co-workers still have more funny stories to tell about the “Rib Dog”…

Yet this week has been so hard, I feel scattered and lonely, like I am just grasping for straws, desperately trying to find that magical something or someone who can pull it all back together for me, the missing link. There has to be something that can fill the void, or someone who completely understands! Then last night, as I tossed and turned, unable to calm myself down enough to sleep, it became all too clear.

Of course.

The missing link.

It’s you.

(No wonder this is so hard.)

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