When I sit down to write I get stuck. This year has been hard. So much loss. Too much loss. The latest being of my beloved Annie. My dad and I drove a sweet puppy home a little over 14 years ago. She was tiny and the sweetest little soul I have ever met.
She became my love, my family, my friend, my baby. She stuck by me (literally) everyday. So many stories of her that I need to write down before they are gone. But it feels too raw. Thinking of her face, even looking at a photo of her creates a stabbing feeling in my head and my stomach. That feeling that she is just gone. forever.
And so I want to get back to blogging. But I need a pass to not write about the loss. It feels like I am being untrue. But it is the opposite. I can only be true to my sanity to pause from this rawness.
So blogging on some really shallow things, mostly quilting, is forthcoming.
And then there is this little guy. His name is Toby. He is new to our home and is giving me all of his joy and love in exchange for kisses and tears and cuddles. He is giving me permission to breathe and smile. He talks to me all the time. When he gets scared he runs to me. At night, he sleeps on my pillow and purrs until I fall asleep. He is full of discovery – he spent hours on Saturday jumping in and out of a basket – I think he thought he was invisible when he was in the basket and was so proud of himself for discovering this. When he is excited, he runs so fast his back legs get out of synch. He has no idea how cute he is. He imagines himself a great hunter as he drags his stick and feather toy across the house.
I can’t imagine a better medicine for my sadness.
I love you Annie. I will always love you. And I know that me being ok was always the most important thing to you. I am ok. I promise.
weeknight quilting 