It's being afraid, somehow, to just pop back into the picture and act as if nothing happened while you were away. Or being incapable of explaining what happened.
Because what happened was not all that remarkable. But at the same time it was, genuinely, remarkable.
What happened was life.
What happened was legs grew longer
What happened was Ian's mother, Granny, died and we went to England to celebrate a life fully lived.
What happened was, we went to the beach and met a dog named Romeo.
What happened was, we painted
What happened was,we climbed some mountains
And looked out at more mountains. And swam in rivers
And trolled ponds for frogs
And wrote in our journals
And dined by the lake
And turned Barbies into mermaids
And the river called again....
As did the lake....
And back to the river....because it is so amazing and refreshing and alive with constant movement and noise.
And then what happened was, we picked berries
And went camping on an island in a big lake.
And, yes, we went back to that river and jumped off a cliff and splashed into the water
And there was time for dress up..
And tree climbing
and we went to the beach
Where we saw mermaids
but they still enjoy each other's company... mostly
We put on hats
This morning..... there was snow
And I don't have a single picture to share because it's all melted away. Much like the last five months. Turned to liquid that is lapping at our heels, threatening to deepen and swirl around our ankles, ready to lift us off our feet and carry us, suspended and helpless, down this wild, rushing river.