Because I live in France, though my entire family lives in California, I am often missing someone at one time or another. I have missed many special occasions, many day-to-day happenings that are the mortar and bricks of shared life. I know what it means to "miss someone."
Often I am asked, "Do you miss your family? Your country?" and recently, since I am in California away from French-husband, people have said, "I could never be away from my husband, how do you do it?"
Missing someone is a daily part of my life.
Imagine a black and blue bruise on your arm...feel the pounding thoughts of what you are missing, and who you are not seeing, and the mortar and bricks creating something that you cannot help construct...as a fresh bruise that never heals.
I cannot stop the missing feeling I have, I cannot change the color of the bruise, but I can move my arm so that it doesn't receive a direct hit, I can change the way I deal with the punches coming at me, I can accept the reality at hand and accept it as part of my life. Instead of seeing the bruise, and moaning, I can see the sensitivity it brings me and try to apply the tenderness in my day-to-day approach.
photo: Marble statue at the Vatican, that spoke a thousand silent words.