We were getting ready to go to bed. Of course, we were talking about the new house. I said to Tim, "I know that it's stupid, but I never expected to love that house. I really LOVE that house." He laughed, and said, a bit embarrassed, "No. Last night at work on break, I went to the computer just to bring up the realtor's pictures. I just wanted to look at it again."
When we went to bed, we lay side by side in the dark, talking. Dreaming long before our eyes ever closed.
So, it's not just me. Tim feels it too.
We don't have television, but still the pictures from Japan make their way to me. There is no escaping them. The face of an elderly Japanese man haunts me. I want to go there, and find him and make him safe, and comfortable, and fed. Everyone that I know has at least one picture caught in their mind, an image that is seared into our horrified brains.
Everyone wants to do something. It's not just me.
The moon is huge tonight. Just huge. Wrapped up in my blue bathrobe, I watch it from the window. The neighbor's dog barks and barks and barks. How on earth do you let a dog out and then not wait for him to come back in? I sit wide awake, watching the moon.
It's not just me awake and watching. I've got company. That dog just keeps on barking.