I’ve been trying not to cry too much about Henry here in blog land, and also in life in general. 
Both are hard. Because even though I don’t cry to anyone, I still cry in my head. Sometimes what you hear in your head is far more hard to process than anything you could ever articulate.
However, in my lap right now – and by my side a majority hours of the day – is little Lily Peanut who has also been adjusting to one of the most horrible things we will ever endure. I tell her it’s ok a lot. I’ve been reassuring her that nothing every really dies, it just sort of shifts.
I’ve come to realize that in many ways, she’s been the one telling me we’ll be cool. With the move approaching next week, I’m starting to believe her.
The new abode is only ten blocks from Central Park. I cooed about this to my pretty girl earlier as we wandered through the Queens industrial park I take her through every morning before the sun comes up.
Then I brought her back to my big, nearly empty apartment and tossed around a tied up pillowcase. A gesture kindly returned with face licks and a big, beautiful smile that hasn’t glowed quite as bright in weeks.
Nine more sleeps to midtown! New house, next step, book.
That’s right… book… book… book…