But there is a small light, I think. I walked down to the mailbox this morning and put it in, and for the first time in years, the house didn’t feel quite so empty. The wind was blowing off the lake, and it actually felt like spring. I stood there on the porch and watched the mail carrier drive away, and I felt like I could finally breathe again.

Maybe that is enough for today. Just the writing, and the sending, and the letting go.