Curiosity is no crime. Language barrier? No such thing. But from time to time we wander into uncertain terrain. Let us hope we've crossed paths with an opportunity to learn and make a new friend. The alternative evokes images of a cookfire with a pot of something simmering in need of a good tater or two.
Bitti is broken. Art is her tether to this tenuous moment, and he packed up and left town last week. Where does our mind wander when dreams die? Do we become the catalyst of our own demise? Bitti loves what she loves and accepts the risks. She got what she asked for, so she has no right to curse the universe when it dropped her wish off at the door. We get what we ask for, so pick up a dictionary when you beseech The Unknown for a favor.
Hey '23! Embrace the new role of Chief Intuitioner. Set the intention to create, not ruminate. Read more, scroll less. Doom is in the eye of the idle. Don't expect the goal line to move toward you. A wish that leaves no heartbeat quickened is bound to become another daydream that'll lead you further from your purpose. Learn to recognize the reflection that shimmers on the surface of memory. Is it an image you'd want others to see when engaged in reverie? We sometimes need a reprieve from ourselves. The power inside you, once wielded with carelessness, must now radiate for those whom you do not know. More magic, less trash must be left in one's wake. Surrender to the silence that tried for years to grab your attention. You always did have a way of giving a good thing a swift kick in the teeth. Here's to another year to learn the lessons you no longer can ignore.
Just give me fairy lights and a cup of wine. ’Tis the season to be grateful for this snapshot in time. Winter Solstice. Huzzah! Another year to collect experiences and turn them into mileposts along Life's Highway. Even the daily grind deserves one's best effort. The road can change course without us ever knowing we've taken the long way home.
I stayed up all night with you, getting a bit of shut eye here and there, but mostly watched you sleep and listened to your labored breathing. Your diagnosis of large cell lymphoma had been confirmed a few weeks ago and the vet prescribed prednisone, but your Pa and I could feel lumps all over you weeks before that. Hard not to get all tangled up in woulda/shoulda/coulda, but after 14 years of being the best teacup schnauzer that has ever padded through these parts, we are grateful for all the days spent as a family. Your sister would agree, too, even though I'm sure she prefers to maintain that cranky demeanor that we could all see right through. I've envisioned the two of you engaged in a lively chase, then a round of wrestling, as soon as she recognized you trotting across that Rainbow Bridge. A sunny place where the two of you can play and play and eat endless treats and never again be in pain.
I've blown through a box of tissue typing these sentences. It was just a few hours ago that we drove over to the vet for your final visit. You were light as a feather in my arms, covered as you were in your long, silky salt and pepper hair (which is still on the calendar to be cut this weekend, so I need to make a phone call once I've finished this post.) There are no more doggies living in our house that need regular hair appointments and yearly doctor exams. Those are the milestones that will keep me feeling out of balance now that our home is a canine-free zone. It has been years since we've lived without four-legged children. The holidays have lost a bit of sparkle and shine, but I'll endeavor not to become maudlin as I stare at the schnauzer ornaments hanging from the tree. You and your sister have enriched my life in so many ways, and I shall recount and contemplate all those memories you've helped to make over sugar cookies and eggnog in the remaining days of 2022. (And speaking of days, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention how sad Nana is that your shared birth month and day will now be celebrated by only one of you down here on planet Earth.)
Careful! Your cracks have all come together to form a persona that can no longer hide behind excuses. That high-shine exoskeleton showcases your fear and frustration, which are listed on your résumé as your finest attributes. A big contribution you've always been to the construction of luxury silos, each resplendent with its very own patch of brambles. No small feat to host a garden party ensconced within one's own echo chamber. A cylinder which no Saver-of-Maidens could ever hope to scale.
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