Monday, February 29, 2016

Without fanfare and with little ceremony

Yesterday was not an uncommon day in the Upper Valley. The sun shone brightly, the wind blew with a vengeance and it rained, all at once.

I had been waiting for the perfect day, but perfect days don’t always come. I had wanted one of those blizzards when tree limbs crash to the virgin white ground and the world is silent and full of hope. Rereading that last sentence, I understand why perfect days don’t come. Sometimes our visions of ideal aren’t realistic; they will never materialize. So we move on and do what must be done.

I spread the ashes of Hazel and Claude and Ralph and Trixie and Tillie to the wind. For the dogs, this was their home. It is what they knew. They had to remain and be part of the world that they created. Tillie just went along for a ride with the big boys.

Over two decades of joy and happiness, of love and pain tossed to the gusts. They will be forever in my heart, but come on; it was time they got off the kitchen shelf.

1 comment:

Beth said...

Wish somebody could have been with you when you did this--it's a hard thing to do. We still have Jesse--haven't let her go yet--just haven't decided where.