I sit in bed, computer on my lap, TV on. We had a severe storm earlier with high winds. The lights blinked for a few seconds and I looked for the flashlight, but didn’t need it after all.
This is the day Audrey was supposed to arrive. Her bed I ordered from Amazon arrived a week ago. I took it out of the box and it’s been waiting. How many times did I imagine her in it? And the pretty collar?
The bed is still empty. And it will never hold Audrey girl. Linda called Wednesday night with the news that Audrey will not be coming. She’s a mild mannered little girl who scares easily. And the plane ride would just be too much. The entire experience of leaving the home she knows, sitting in a strange place, being taken in and out several times, ending with people she doesn’t know would be quite a blow. I was worried about it myself Dreaded it for her, in fact. And was relieved for her when I learned she wasn’t coming.
But sad for me. It’s amazing how I bonded with her having never seen her face to face. It’s much like I felt when I carried my children. You imagine and plan and wait. I’m doing a kind of grieving.
Linda said she would send me some one else instead. She also broke her foot stumbling over a cat and can’t take another to the airport right away, so there will be another wait.
It’s all right. I don’t have any feelings for a new one right now. I need to say goodbye to Audrey in my mind, though I know she’ll always be in my heart.