I just called my dear friend M. I have not met her in person but she counsels me as a psychic intuitive. She knows my situation well and is the one who “sees” me writing 7 books.

“I’m worried about things lately,” I told her. “Yes, I can hear it in your voice,” she said.

I won’t go into the details because it is personal, but she had some cogent advice for me. “Try and get out of the house and do things you like.”

“I was on the way to Tuesday Morning and the road was under repair.  Traffic was awful. Then when I got there, they were closed for inventory so I came home.”

Grief is a spiral journey and inexplicably I am having to go deeper into the grief. It is healing for me to share with readers for some of you are familiar with it yourself.

The Fourth of July found me crying for the loss of my relationship with Bob. Even now, I am crying. I want him back. He isn’t coming back. The summer days are  long and hot and I am at my wit’s end.

I have left  Facebook because I need to go to an inward place where I am not continuously giving. Facebook is a great place for posting Notes but not so good for getting your own tank filled.

So I am at home, doing some mourning for lost love. If I could not do that, I would become as empty as an old Oatmeal box. Bob loved me with an everlasting love and still does. Sometimes it’s all I can do to hold up my end of the agreement with life. What is that agreement? To be life itself.

I look forward to recording when I get my new microphone. Somehow I know my heart wants to speak out loud. Perhaps a few will listen.