In the middle of winter, with all these piles of snow all around still stubbornly refusing to melt, it's hard to think that there will ever be (or have ever been, and will, in fact, continue to be) hot mid-July days where you can wear little clothing and inwardly beg for even less clothing to be heaped upon yourself.
When your family is broken up, it's hard to think that there will ever be a day when the present bitterness will ever be thought of as past, and maybe even remembered fondly– with a certain astringent taste, but sweet nonetheless.
I don't talk very much about our family specifics on here, but suffice it to say that my husband is in the Armed Forces and will be going away to One Of The Dangerous Places very soon. Which actually means that he's been coming and going for about a year, and our family routine has been not as routine as it would normally be. But sometimes a little disclosure does the body and soul good. I am cranky and I am afraid, and a small part of me admits that I'll be relieved when he's finally gone, so life without him can start for a little while and regain some monotony, if not some normalcy altogether.
I just wish that I could focus on a concrete flash-forward –a mid-summer balm for the mid-winter soul– instead of floating in the space above, waiting and not being sure at all.