Dear All,
Can you miss what you never even had? I think you can. The thing might be that we can only miss what we never had. Or, maybe we can only miss what we can imagine we never had.
I just discovered that my piano and French teacher died. They called her Little Deer; I never met her, because these lessons were only a plan of mine. A plan to take piano lessons and French lessons. I have taken some of them, of both of them, before, but I always planned to get back to them; like a book I left a marker in, with a promise to return. She died. Several years ago, in fact. And now I don't know what to do with the little advertisement I had cut out, with her smiling face, from the local magazine. This seems like nothing, I know; and it isn't much, is it? Especially, in a year marked by so many losses. The death of a plan, the death of a relationship you imagined, a studying you were going to undertake, it seems like nothing, almost.
Almost like nothing.
