april update

i've been awake since 2:50-something. that's about 4.5 hours of sleep. i don't love that. but i've done my scripture study, i've done katie's reference letter, i even swept the floor in the kitchen! and now i have the luxury of writing a blog post. if one must be awake one may as well use the time to do some stuff. and i am one.

every time i change the position of my legs, the windows rattle. we're so connected.

i don't know what i want to write about. after 2 months of being missing, i did in fact get beirut back. i got the call from the SPCA on the sunday we had stake conference. i hung up the phone and burst into tears. and we had a joyous month together. he was my shadow. accompanying me on all my walks, as i worked in the garden, on my trips to visit mom, (where he insisted on investigating her recycling bin, every time). he was my cuddle bug. no one can cuddle you like a cat. no one. he wasn't bothered by the snow. he dashed from car to car when it was raining. he waded tummy deep into the puddles without hesitation when hunting the ducks in the park. i got a samsung tracker and looped it around his collar. i met a lot of people who knew beirut. "oh he was in my daughter's class before." "oh, he came into my house 2 times!" "oh he comes to visit my cat in the yard all the time." "oh he comes to our house and stares at my cat through the window" "your cat was trying to climb into my window so i let him in the door." he wandered confidently through a gaggle of rcmp and into the open door of a house like he owned the joint. he touched noses with small dogs and arched his back at big dogs and joggers. he leapt fences, sniffed bushes and chewed grasses. it was a beautiful month. and then he was gone again. all i could find of him was his tracker under the tree in the park behind the house. no collar. taken? maybe.

i put up posters. a neighbour said they saw him walking through their yard. some kids prank called me. but i'm yet to find my shadow. my adventure boy. my carefree wanderer.

i've been gardening. i cold sewed a lot of seeds and now i'm in a pickle. because they need to be planted. i've been re-purposing bookshelves into garden beds. and picnic baskets. and plastic tubs. i've been making trips to the landfill and getting over 400lbs of compost for $5. i'm up to my eyeballs in gardening.

i've been learning and growing in leadership. practicing service in leadership, learning from my mistakes, trying to find ways to be better and to serve better. there is always something happening at work that is stretching my capacities. i am learning to pray and seek revelation and support for work issues. 

i've been living the online life with my love. we share all the moments together that we can. big and small. he witnesses me in my evening flossing ritual (flossing consecutive days has been my determination. i'm on a flossing streak). i witness him walking through the streets and markets on his way home from long walks in the city. he walks everywhere. he accompanies me on my morning walks. he chats jovially with martha and i as we explore forest paths. he's with me in the garden. we lay in our respective beds and talk until it's time for one of us to fall asleep. i watch him make coffee or cut potatoes. he watches me build the world's best veggie sandwich.  he calls me from his friend's house as he is charging his phone. i tell him all about my busy days. every detail. he rouses me from my bed of rot on my slug days. we talk about my family. we talk about his family. i share the problems at work that i am puzzling. he shares his frustrations and fears with happenings in his country. we laugh a lot. i cry. he loves. i love. we love. this isn't how we want it but it is infinitely better than not having each other at all. his love is my daily blessing. his love is my daily support. his love is a light in my life. his love is my safety.  the ache of being apart swells and ebbs like a tide. the longing to reach out, pull my love near and feel him solidly in my arms. heart beating next to heart. that strong hand on my back, in my hand. the feeling of being so near and yet unable to grasp. the wish to reach through the ethereal and tug the physical, is an ache. and yet. what a gift to have this love that creates this ache. what a gift to have this online life. what a gift. 

in 8 days it will be our one year anniversary. what more is in store for us?