Fog

Fog today.

I could leave it at that.

Remembering G telling me how she liked fog.

The dampness on my coat, the tiny droplets that day.

From G's window another valley she often looked out at while I got my shoes and coat on at the end of the session. Even this time last year. Still then.

To be seen, understood, accepted and loved in one's rawness and vulnerability a rare and precious gift. To lose this a raw and aching loss. It goes on and I go on.