Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

Dear JK, For some time now, really since saying goodbye to Ado, you've seemed a bit off, as if you're mooring line  untethered and you're just drifting about. He was your wharf and you didn't understand this until the vet sat next to you and said in so many words there was no fixing what was wrong with him. That day will stay with you for a long time. As will the day you sat on the floor beside Ado, whispering to him, petting him, watching the light dim then go out entirely. Those moments have played out over and over the last two months. One day they will fade.  And you will find peace. There will come a day the tears won't fall. Instead, you'll smile, thinking of all the wonderful that happened because of that little furry puppy who came into your life and marked out a spot in your heart that was all for him. Just for him.  For now, it's okay to mourn. It's okay to not want to do things. It's okay to miss your beautiful boy.

Murphy and I have been keeping busy, trying to keep the sadness somewhat at bay. It's been tough. I find myself constantly thinking about Ado. And Murphy basically told me no when I put his dinner in Ado's bowl instead of the little one he'd been eating out of for the last nearly two years. When I put the food in the bowl, then put the bowl in it's wooden holder, Murphy looked at me like, "What in the world, hoomin. That is not where my food goes." He then barked his resistance. It took a bit of cajoling to get him to be okay with eating out of Ado's bowl. Last week we went to the lake I took Ado to for his first longer hike. Murphy and I walked the path, and I remembered so much of being there with Ado. Murphy enjoyed the hike and was one tuckered out pup when we got home. Yesterday, we went to another park I've never been to before. Before we set off on our walk, I pulled out the bag with two donuts and shared them with Murphy. I think he preferred t...

 

Did you know snowflakes can hurt? I found this out yesterday on my way home from the transit station. I'd ridden my bike up in the morning to catch the bus, and during the afternoon a light snow fell when I returned to the transit station to get my bike and ride home. Almost as soon as I started out, a snowflake hit me in the eye. Not a pleasant feeling! All the way home I was blinking and keeping my head down to avoid having snowflakes maul my eyeballs. Being out, riding through the snow, was invigorating. I've actually been considering trying to ride twenty miles or more on a weekly basis all winter long no matter what kind of weather we're having. First, I have to find my booties, though. I really don't like having cold toes. You know what else hurts? Dreams. I had a dream last night during which something happened that created an intense emotional pain. One part of the dream I remember the most is me standing at a sink, washing coffee mugs and crying because of ...

I broke one of the rules I set for myself this year: not to begin a new book until I'm finished with the one I'm already reading. I just couldn't help myself, though. The title reached out and wrapped its warm homeyness around me. I couldn't wrestle free from its hold. I cried, "Uncle!" and hit the buy button just so I could catch my breath. As if that wasn't bad enough, then, when I was about to go back to the book I was already reading, the darn new book worked its way outside the touch screen of my tablet and forced my finger to tap on the cover of the book. It even skipped all the introductory pages and went straight to the first page of chapter 1. I was under some kind of spell because no matter how much I wanted to not read that page, the following page, and right through to chapter 2, I couldn't stop. I could only stop when I reached the end of chapter 2, with the last line, "Preferably on a picnic blanket, with your mother." A melan...

  I can't believe a year has slipped by since Mom left this world. When I woke up at 5:21, one of my first thoughts was how a year ago today, at 4:07 am, my cell phone rang. I knew it was my sister. I knew she was going to tell me Mom had passed away. The days that have made up the year since that early morning call have all contained one constant: loss. In the wake of my loss, my family's loss, one positive happened: a sense of purpose. What started with a bike ride across the US to raise funds for MS research has turned into a desire to continue raising awareness of what MS is and to advocate for those living with MS. How this happens is yet undetermined. I'm hoping during 2013, the answer to the question of how? comes to light. I'm not sure what my next move will be. While I dream of having the women's specific bike shop, I haven't proceeded with the business plan because Negative Voice in my head keeps insisting I'll never get financial assista...