Praying that the Best is still to come

I had to go downtown to bring a letter to the postoffice. In spite of the rain, the cold and the overall greyness of the morning, I took my chance to walk around. As most shops stay still closed, it really is hardly looking attractive to spend more time out in the centre then stricktly necessary. Moreover the pittoreske site around the townharbour is one big neverending constructionsite. This is going on for months. But we must await more promising summerdays.
After checking my appointment at the hairdressers I crossed back down to the place where the Diemel flows into the Weserriver. There is an orientationtable there, which indicates several directions and connections. Especially s’Gravenzande, just a few miles south from where We have/had Our Appartment@Sea. It feels rather strange to stand there, look over the grey water towards a foggy West. When will I be able to travel again? Since July has been the last time, We were there to Commemorate Willemien’s Death with Dutch family&and friends…
When? Nobody knows how the future will unvellop. MyDearestLove could not stand this deep insecurity. It reinforced her anxieties. She resembled her father also in this respect. Being locked up or down – even under the relative light conditions here in the faraway countryside. It was unbearable for him as for his daughter not to be able to move across borders, undertaking action, travel, when en whereto You would want. Unthinkable all these restraints on freedom…
And there I stand , this promeneur solitaire, this widower…I think of people who too have lost dear ones, due to covid. Living inside already for a year, because of their extreme vulnerablitiy. I take a deep breath and continue my walkaround the riverside, the towncentre, conscious of all those destinies, pains, sorrows, not knowing where to go. Ohyoupoor, I pray you may find some rest, patience, peace, hope. I cannot but trust in God that we will be saved. Are saved. And that the best is still to come.