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This week I’ve been thinking about how time behaves beside someone who’s fading. It slows, slips, folds back on itself. Some mornings stretch forever, while it feels like others vanish before my coffee even cools.
I’ve come to land to be with my Queenie. Each day I hold her hand, listen to the sea outside the window, and notice how my own rhythm changes with hers. The sea keeps time for both of us now. This Drifting Note is about that time bend, and the way care rearranges a life, and how presence can feel like movement.
Maybe it will make you think of someone whose pace you’ve learned without meaning to….Have you ever noticed how time changes shape beside someone you love?
How a minute can stretch until it blurs, and a week can fold into a single breath?
I love the messages you send, here, on WhatsApp or by email. Thank you for drifting with us, Queenie and me, through this season. I read to her all of your responses <3
By LyssThis week I’ve been thinking about how time behaves beside someone who’s fading. It slows, slips, folds back on itself. Some mornings stretch forever, while it feels like others vanish before my coffee even cools.
I’ve come to land to be with my Queenie. Each day I hold her hand, listen to the sea outside the window, and notice how my own rhythm changes with hers. The sea keeps time for both of us now. This Drifting Note is about that time bend, and the way care rearranges a life, and how presence can feel like movement.
Maybe it will make you think of someone whose pace you’ve learned without meaning to….Have you ever noticed how time changes shape beside someone you love?
How a minute can stretch until it blurs, and a week can fold into a single breath?
I love the messages you send, here, on WhatsApp or by email. Thank you for drifting with us, Queenie and me, through this season. I read to her all of your responses <3