If you read my last post, you know that Thursday was a really sad day for us. So was Friday, and Saturday, and Sunday. My son actually said, “Our house doesn’t even feel like a home anymore.” We’re getting there though. We have cried a little less each day.
In addition to sadness, there have been glimmers of good. It started when we took a walk just a couple of hours after we put Blue down. I took this photo and noted that it had been gray and cloudy all day until we decided to take a walk to Blue’s favorite pond.
The next day, I was looking at the picture again, when I suddenly saw Blue in the clouds.
On Friday, my daughter’s teacher was telling a story about a book she had just read. She was moved to tears by the death of the main character’s 14 year old dog.
That same evening, my husband was watching a fishing show. He fishes, but he never watches fishing shows. Well, that’s not true, we both watch Deadliest Catch, but not really for the fishing; more for the train wreck of chain-smoking, crab-boat crews. Anyway, he was watching this fishing show that kept making reference to catching something called a “Blue Dog.”
And, in church yesterday, the homily was about being reunited with those you love; all of us restored, whole and without pain.
Thank you, Blue. I hope you keep sending us messages.
Also, if you could keep those messages off of the bottom of my shoe, I would be really grateful.