Day 53 -- What happened to yesterday?

Another first -- the first time I did not complete an entry for a day (Day 52).  Was it oversight? Somewhat.  I got in bed -- trying to find that bed-time when I would sleep through the night.  As I settled down, I realized I had not blogged.  Thought this would be an opportunity to see if writing so late at night as I have been doing was also getting too much stirred up and messing with my sleep cycle.  So I gave it a shot.  Slept better -- and longer.  Also found it a little more difficult to get up this morning.  The experiment continues, in that I am writing this right after supper, and I have some other projects to complete before bedtime.
While weeding this evening (thanks for the cloudiness!) I found myself saying "I wish Margaret could see this".  Some of the peanut plant (ornamental) that she tried to get to grow and it refused survived the freeze.  And, in the midst of some healthy weeds, that peanut plant was putting out its runners and claiming the less sunny sections.  I really need to talk to Carolyn and Dennis about their peanut plants (theirs survived very well), and also how they are nursing their Staghorn.  At another point in the day I was wishing Margaret could see something and wished I could hear her laugh!  These are not different memories, they carry a different load -- the sadness of missing someone absent without the accompanying painful, gut-wrenching pang.  I had a song in my head that wouldn't go away (happened to be making the bed) so I went to the computer and Googled it.  As I played the different arrangements ("There's Got To Be a Morning After") something punched me in the gut and I just sat at the computer and wept.  Didn't take long to run its course and I realized that for all the energy I am spending learning to take care of myself alone, there is that lost soul who is still devastated that he no longer has his Margaret to nurture and care for him -- and finds it is very lonely to do that by himself.  I guess that guy had enough of watching all the "firsts" of the week and needed to assert himself and let his fear be known.  He has not been very far below the surface -- I think we are getting better acquainted and more comfortable with our mutual existence.
Another "first".  I've always kept more than one project and/or more than one book going at the same time.  It seemed I had lost that mode over the last 3 or 4 years.  Now I think it is coming back -- and may be part of my rediscovery of how much I need the companionship of fellow seekers (for project completion, story lines, problems to solve).