Back in December, I wrote:
I step into the shower, rearrange the curtain, and see it.
It sits there, waiting.
I want to pick it up. I want to use it. I want to feel that connection again.
It is not yet time.
It’s January 29th. I am counting days, not weeks. I’m feeling shocks across my heart as the connection comes back. He has gone from joyful child to “girls are icky” to mischievous.
It is still not yet time, but I can hear Him.
Almost, He says. His voice is growing stronger.
I fidget, my patience thin, although I do try. I try to concentrate on writing a ritual, and the words come in fits and starts. I try to work on product for the business, and flit from project to project. I look at my altar, too long ignored, and start to fuss with it. Kit and I are planning a veritable feast for Imbolc. I want everything to be right.
Days now. Just days.