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I'm not even playing that song. I know it'll floor me.
Oh, Ducks, honey. I know what that's like. That moment of false recognition. I still get it sometimes. Though less often now. From time to time I'll see Dad. Silly because he never lived around my town. Yet I sometimes see him shopping there.
And from time to time, I'll feel a rush of pride over some academic achievement or other, or a landmark passed, or even just a really clever idea for a poem. And for just a second I'm rehearsing the phonecall to tell him.
*hugs*
It does get easier. Takes time, but it does. Still knocks me a little off kilter sometimes, but the gutwrenching body blow that such things used to bring has softened a great deal.
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