I’m missing the physical….
Francesco was so affectionate with me.
Heart to heart hugs in the morning, he said it set the day right.
Cuddling up in the evening, one of our favourite things.
He’d get so excited, like a little kid rubbing his hands together, big big smile, at even the thought that we would all get into bed together for a siesta, any time of day.
Me, him and our two dogs.
Under the duvet.
It was a hub of love in there.
Keeping warm on winter nights.
Having fun on summer days.
Whilst the world was out there fighting and striving we were in there hiding and thriving, through love
“What shall we do now” ? I’d ask.
“Let’s cuddle up” he’d say.
Whilst I can now connect with him mentally, visually and verbally, the one thing I can’t do is feel that physical embrace.
I find myself craving him, like an addict having withdrawal symptoms, I’d give anything to feel him physically again.
If I think about that long enough I’ll cry.
In the meantime I’m getting by, remembering his love, his smile, his warm embrace and cuddle up style.