I walked by the post box this morning, and did not stop there to put a letter in it addressed to you. I did not have a four-page, type-written monologue of my previous week's adventures with which to amuse and entertain you. I did not have a long white envelope with a hand-written address across running lopsided across the center, a little bonsai tree postage stamp growing on the right, and a tropical fish return address label swimming in the other corner.
Over the past week, I did not take a hundred photographs from every possible angle in the hopes of finding that precious handful of funny and quirky illustrations of my daily life, with the sole purpose of providing you a window from your golden retirement home into my bright green days. I did not ask the knitting ladies to hold up their knitting for an awkward moment while I tried to focus and control the flash on my dated digital camera. I didn't pull my camera out in the restaurant to capture the cheerful baby coo-ing while we chatted. In the mornings, I didn't drag my camera out with the goat chow in order to catch the baby goat playtime, or the llama ear semiphore, or the deer inspection of the garden.
Last night, I did not go back through my LiveJournal to glean the daily tidbits that I might have forgotten over the week. I didn't revisit the week entry-by-entry, picking this or that moment as a basis for a story to share or a joke to pass along. I didn't look through my recent book reviews to see if any of the book covers would entertain you, or if any of the authors might have life stories of their own to pass along to you. I did not have an e-mail in-box of marked cartoons from which to pull the last punch line, the cutest artwork, or the loveliest momento with which to relate our own family experiences. I did not have tagged e-mails with news of my friends which might interest you either for shared history or simply for the most interesting thing they were doing this week.
Despite what I did not do, you are still on my mind.
I could claim that I did not go into the garden for you, to check on how my potatoes are doing, on whether the fruit trees are setting fruit, on where the berry bushes have spread. I could say that I did not go over to the new pasture just for you, to see if the daffodils are done to the point that we can dig them up and let the goats back in that field. And of course I did not walk down to the creek with you in my mind, or over to the little flood/pond to see if the frogs have come back yet this spring. Nor did I note which tulips are just starting, and which are finishing, and wonder if you knew their names. No, I did not. ... or at least, not more than once...
I walked past the post box this morning, and did not stop... for very long.