Going Waveless

This just doesn't feel right.  My husband left to run some errands, and I didn't make it to the window to wave goodbye.  After all of these years of never missing a wave, I chose the comfort of staying upstairs in the warmth of our bedroom rather than the polar temperatures of downstairs.  Even if I didn't think I'd make it down the narrow stairway, through the dining room, and into the living room for the usual waving spot, in time to wave at my hubby, there's no excuse.  I should have tried.  Our wave to each other means so much more than goodbye; it means that even if I'll see him again in twenty minutes, I'll still miss him during that short period of time.  It means, "Have fun", or "Have a good day at work", and always, "I love you".  Knowing what I know now, and that is, how crummy I feel without even making an effort to wave goodbye, I will start all over again for a new record of daily waves.  It won't matter if I'm in the basement or the attic, the rewards of this minor interruption far outweigh the feeling of going waveless. 

For obvious reasons, I chose this one called, "You Stole My Heart".