According to the all knowing Facebook, B starts preschool tomorrow.
This news is particularly hard to hear when I just mailed him his birthday present. It's not much, a book, but then nothing could be enough. When I got it yesterday, read it, touched the pages and wrote him a note in it, I knew I would be mailing a part of my heart. I addressed the envelope, bought the postage and then...with a thud into the bin at the post office it went. The thud was one I had heart before. It echoes of the hollow spot in my heart, longing for any news of B.
So he starts preschool tomorrow. I wonder what he will have for snack, will his teacher like him, will he nap well? There is a hollow thud there.
With Love Always