I really intended my next post to be more upbeat and positive – it’s been a lot of loss and death and gloom lately, I know. But Facebook wrecked that – well, actually someone named Trish did with the photo she posted of her holding her sweet old dog, now gone four months.
Then we can blame the copyright laws that did not allow me to post the Cheryl Wheeler song that would not leave me alone once I saw that photo. I could only post it via WordPress. And also winter – extremely important to blame winter, because it was summer when I lost Betty, but now it’s cold out, and I have to get used to an empty space beside my desk where a snoring old dog should be, snuggling next to me and the space heater below the quiet of a heavy snowfall or the bite of a sharp, icy wind outside, curled up with her hedgehog, or a friend’s borrowed lamb, or whatever toy she chose that day, all of which now lie unused and collecting dust, slowly being thrown away. But very slowly.
It’s also coming up on the holidays, and that’s never good when someone’s missing from the family. And this morning I slammed my right ring finger in a door, so the massive amount of typing I have to do each day is now made that much more enjoyable by a sharp reminder of my natural grace each time I hit any key on the right side of my keyboard.
My point is that there are things and people to blame for one more post about loss, about sadness, about things that are hard. That’s good – at least it’s not just me being morose or something. But those things are out there gathering behind us, and sometimes you just can’t help but turn around and notice. It’s possible after a while to smile at a remembrance even as it brings an ache; to treasure as well as mourn what is gone. And it’s good to learn to turn around sometimes I think, because they’re always waiting for us, those things, calling softly, somehow there both to trip us and to catch us if we fall.
