I’ve missed my little office and I’ve spent a fair amount of time there since I arrived back at the cottage – not really doing anything except browsing on the computer.
I haven’t started back in on the Top Secret Project yet. I’m just not motivated. I haven’t finished sorting and cleaning out my files. Just not motivated. I haven’t started cleaning out the craft/crap closet that’s just behind me when I sit in my chair. Just not motivated.
You get the picture. Right now, I’m overwhelmed by an empty house. An empty, much-too-quiet house that is, as Don so aptly described it, filled with absence. I see and feel Scout’s absence everywhere I turn. We don’t know what to do with ourselves. We wander. We try to read. We talk and talk about our girl. We cry. We hold hands. Every single thing that happens during the course of the day triggers a memory of Scout. She was such a magic girl. She was our daughter.
That’s where I am at the moment and where Don is, too. He’s had a bit more time to get used to an empty house. I’m just beginning to experience it. Yesterday, Don took off for a while on an errand and I took a shower and after making the bed, I came downstairs to Empty. I was alone in the cottage for the first time in the ten years we’ve lived here. Completely alone. It made me catch my breath. And I understood how hard it must have been for Don in those days right after Scout’s passing; Scout gone, me back in Hartford, Don completely alone.
I understood. I understand.
Here’s the deal: since this blog centers on my thoughts on any given day, I will be sharing these thoughts about grief and Scout and my father and my mother and loss with you when it feels appropriate. If I don’t, I will be denying the honesty that fuels this blog. You’ve been so gracious, so understanding, and for that I thank you. So many of you have commented over the course of the last couple of weeks and every comment has meant the world to me. Some have not, for whatever reason – I understand. If sharing my thoughts about Scout makes anyone impatient or bored, I make no apologies. It’s real. It’s about as deep as it gets. Hopefully, in some small way, this sharing will help others who are facing the loss of a loved one.
I lost three of the dearest beings in the world to me in less than two years. Coping with that, trying to make my way through it, honoring the grieving process and not feeling the need to follow anyone else’s timetable as to when a person should be ‘over’ a loss – that is what I plan to do.
Okay.
On to another subject. Another piece of Roseville arrived in the mail yesterday.
Coincidentally, another piece in the Clematis pattern. (It just worked out that way.) This is an eight inch high vase in blue.
The other side. It was a pretty good deal, not a steal, but a good price. It has a small chip on the bottom edge, but it’s barely noticeable.
I have several Roseville reference books, which I use for the photos and patterns and to learn more about the pottery line. They were published several years ago and the prices listed are not realistic for today’s market. They’re based on that time I refer to when I could only dream of buying a piece of this pottery. I found a little paperback online yesterday (looks self-published) that is actually an updated 2016 list of prices. Bare bones, no pictures, just the item number and a price. I think it was $9.00. I ordered it and I’m hoping it will give me a better idea of an acceptable price range. A lot of sellers on eBay are listing pieces at those long ago price points and, thankfully, it seems that no one is taking the bait.
Happy Tuesday.
This is why I enjoy your blog so much Claudia – it is real, it is you. We are here to help you through this very difficult, very sad time. Hopefully, knowing that we are all here supporting you and standing by you will help in some small way. Hugs to you and Don.
It helps in a very big way, Vera. And I thank you!
Claudia. When my husband died and I went back to work one of my co-workers said “grief is a tough row to hoe” .Yes it is. Nidia
It is, indeed, Nidia. Hugs to you.
Claudia, I completely understand your pain that you are going thru. It is not a easy time. Sometimes it is hard for us to say the right things to help each other. Doris
It is. I often find myself trying to find the right words to comfort someone. It’s an ongoing lesson, isn’t it?
Hope writing about it all will help. It always helps me.
Sue
xo
It does, Sue. Talking to Don, writing about it on the blog – it helps a lot.
It only just occurred to me that several of my most recent posts mention my own loss in one way or another. It is a way to cope. My blog is me so I don’t make any apologies either. It is difficult and we do what we can.
Exactly. We do what we can. We cope in the way that is best for us. Sending love to you, Melanie.
Doris wrote how I know I feel. Sometimes it’s hard to say the right thing. At least for me, I feel your loss and the sadness and grieving. Keep sharing when you want; we are feeling it with you. I do say, though, even when you post about other topics, I feel your sadness at this time.
Thank you, Patricia.
Hugs to you and Don through these hard times.
Thank you, Carolyn Marie.
I am one of those who have not commented so far; not because I am impatient or bored but because your grief touches mine so closely. I know the effects of losing those we love in rapid succession only too well. I have been distraught because you are so honest and true when you write.
It is so wrenching to face every day of loss that it takes a long time before we can engage with the world again. My advice would be to continue to write about whatever you are feeling on that day and take the space you need.
I’m so sorry you are having to go through this as well, Carol. My sympathy and support is being sent your way. I have also read posts that touched my heart so deeply or cut so close to the bone that I have been unable to comment. That’s why I wrote that I understand. And I do. Thank you.
Claudia, as far as I’m concerned, you can talk about Scout, your parents and your grief as much as you feel the need. I have had to deal with lots of grief in my life and I certainly understand. As always, you and Don are in my prayers. Much love to you both.
Thank you so much, Charlene.
This is your blog and my feeling is that you can express your thoughts, grief,
and whatever you want. We will be there for you and Don.
Thank you, Lea.
Claudia, I can feel the pain thru your words and my heart aches for you and Don. Thank you so very much for sharing your life with us ( a real life – not a staged/photo-shopped version of life ) – your honesty shines thru on your posts.
After my own struggle with loss this past year, I’ve learned that everyone’s experience with grief is different and totally individual to that person. Your words have reinforced the fact that no one can (or should) tell you how to grieve or when to stop grieving. That some days are better than others – some days are not. All of us who’ve suffered losses are all learning to navigate this world without our loved ones — and the learning process will continue for rest of our lives. So please do not hesitate to share your grief with us – your words have helped me more than you can ever know. Thank you again for sharing your life and God bless you.
Thank you for listening, Regina. I’m sorry you are having to navigate these waters, as well. Much love to you.
My sympathies for your loss. I read your blogs faithfully. Hang in there.
I read an article on Literary Hub today that made me think of you….
http://lithub.com/harper-lee-and-the-myth-of-a-post-racial-america/
I’ll go read it, Melisaa. Thank you.
I am completely empathetic to where you are now, Claudia. I lost my husband, my Uncle (Mom’s only brother), and my kitty within three years. Death sends us reeling, and many in a space of a few months stagger us. A huge reason I love your blog is that you are your own person. You understand your need and love of independent thought, and you’re fortunate to have a life partner who is equal-minded. Write all you want of your parents, Scout, Riley, Winston. And also Don, theater, Roseville, McCoy, books, secret projects with a capital S and capital P or not, the weather, the garden…..in everything, you keep it real, Claudia, and you know we love you for it.
And I love you, too. Thank you, Wendy.
I know how hard the silence can be. I think you need some distractions! Put some favorite music on; work on a knitting project (I like a small project……socks); plan your garden; put up a bird feeder (birds and their antics always make me smile). Hope each day gets better. Smile.
I find I’m unable to do any of that right now, Linda. And I can’t force it. When it’s time, it will be time – I had distractions when I was working in Hartford. Now, I need to go through this and to acknowledge my grief.
I totally understand where you are Claudia. Losing loved ones profoundly changes our lives and it takes time to recover our balance and try to get back to some sense of normalcy.
However long it takes is up to you and Don. Your honesty and realness are the reasons I read your blog. I relate. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for reading and being there, Donna.
I am one of the ones who hasn’t said anything because words aren’t easy for me, I mostly feel your lost. If I were there I would give you a hug and cry with you.
Trina
Oh, thank you, Trina. You don’t have to say anything…this kind of loss isn’t always easy to acknowledge and it isn’t easy to find the right words. Thank you for leaving a comment and bless you.
Part of a healthy grief journey is to share your story and your path to healing. For those of us who do want to hear about how you are doing, keep talking, keep writing. For those who find it hard, they’ll return in time. Perhaps it’s bringing up memories for them and they need to step back. But know you are thought of and held in everyone’s hearts.
Pretty Roseville! Thanks for posting both your heart and your passions.
Thank you, Chy. I understand that this might be hard for those who are also grieving or are trying hard to get past their grief. My heart goes out to them.
Your blog reflects your life and this is your life right now. If your reader friends were looking for anything else, they wouldn’t be hanging out with you here. This takes time. Day by day, or as the great Dorothy Day put it, “by little and by little.”
I like that. By little and by little. That about sums it up, Margaret. Thank you.
It’s gotten me through a lot.
xo
You write it out here, whatever you need to, about dear Scout. There are all those stages of grief and you have to get through them, or else you can’t heal your heart. Journaling is a great tool. Just talk it out. This is YOUR blog and you own it in more ways than one. Scout was in your day-to-day life; in your own digs, under your roof, in your care. This all doesn’t just go away like extinguishing a candle. Time may dull some memories or the routine but, as you of course know, time is a fleeting sort of thing, different for everyone. I just wish it was Spring and that you had sun; some ‘bright’ and warm light. The cold, dark days can’t be helping the situation and I just scanned a headline that the Northeast is about to be hit again with some frigid weather.
That’s a different blue on the new Roseville piece; I like it. Am I seeing more of a cornflower blue rather than the aqua tints, yes?
Yes, it’s going to snow this afternoon. Strangely enough, I’m looking forward to it. I don’t know why. I’m anxious for spring but not too anxious as if it were here right now, I would find myself entirely unable to do any gardening. It’s a good thing for me that it won’t be here for a couple of months. It was lovely and warm and sunny yesterday. Today it’s gray and damp. I’m not going to complain as we have had a very mild winter.
That blue is definitely a cornflower blue – Roseville used different blues depending on the pattern. The more the merrier, I say. Thank you, Vicki.
My thoughts are with you and Don. We had a small grey & white tabby cat named Tootse. She found us working in the yard one summer day back in 1992 and changed our lives forever. We lost her to old age in 2012 and it stills hurts today. I feel your pain and send you healing thoughts.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Deanna. They do change our lives forever. Thank you.
Claudia,
I’m someone who has followed your blog for some time, but who never commented until your loss of Scout. I do not have a blog and not being part of the blogging community, I guess I never felt right commenting. However, when you lost Scout, I just had to. I know the pain of loss. I unexpectedly lost my mother 9 years ago. I was overwhelmed with grief and still am finding my way. Two years ago, I had to say goodbye to a dog that was my husband’s when we got married. Although she was his dog, I loved her and cared for her and was devasted by her loss. I so remember the heavy weight of sadness over her not being here physically. I cried a lot, but could not talk to my husband much because he is someone who actually does better not talking. I adopted a little Chihuahua puppy shortly after the loss of my mother and I feel the same way about her that you feel for Scout. Five years ago she developed a non-life threatening but serious eye disease in both eyes. After years of extensive and expensive treatment, she recently had surgery and even though there is no cure, there may be some light at the end of the tunnel. During this process, I’ve grieved the loss of how she was before all of this. Very few people have understood the time and emotional toll of all of this. Not only do I understand loss and the pain of grief, but the very real need to talk about all of these feelings. I know what it is like to stay quiet because there are some people who either do not understand, do not care, or simply cannot talk about such things. So I comment and share all of this to simply say, please do not apologize or explain your need to talk about all of your losses and the pain you and Don feel. I am among those who will truly listen from my heart and hold you up in thought and prayer.
Susan
Bless you, Susan. I pray that your little dog will be better after her surgery. And I send you my sincere sympathy on the loss of you mother and your dog. It never goes away, this grief, it just changes as we cope and try to move forward. I, too, have had to censor myself at times because I knew that the person I was talking to couldn’t cope with or understand my grief. It’s hard.
Claudia,
It is hard. No matter what we go through, we can never truly know how someone else feels because it is unique to them. Wouldn’t it be nice though if people could simply say, “I can’t truly know your pain, but I care and I will listen.” The weight of grief is heavy and often we just need to talk. Take extra care of yourself.
Susan
That would be very nice, indeed, Susan. Thank you.
Claudia, I will say what many have said already, the number one reason that I love coming here is because it is real. You write about real life and that is refreshing in the blogworld.
Please talk all that you want about your beautiful girl Scout, she was your baby. Talk about your parents. Life, love and loss the circle of out lives. I know how you feel because I lost my Munchen is August after almost 15 years, and she was my child, my baby, my love, and sometimes my life. She was my companion, my friend and so much more. I loved her more than life and frankly I still cry everyday thinking about her.
Take the time you need, don;t worry about cleaning, and de-cluttering because it does not matter.
I am sorry for your pain, grief and loss. There is nothing anyone can say to make you feel better but we are thinking of you.
Prayers for you and Don.
I’m sorry about your dear Munchen. I felt the same way about Scout. I loved her more than life, as well. Please know that I understand and that my thoughts are with you, Elizabeth. And thank you for your kind words.
My Dear Friend Claudia, I would feel hurt if you ever felt you couldn’t talk to me, in a very honest open way. When I lost my daughter 2 years ago,the only things I ever got from you were,Empathy,Love and kindness, AND Patience! AND I repeat It is going to take as long as it takes!!
Having said that,one day you may not even notice you WILL go a few seconds,or a minute, with out thinking of your heavy, painful,burden that is always with you. then a few more days You may feel like, almost working on something, or getting out something to look at that makes you happy. In a few more days you might wake up and that isn’t the very first thing you think about. Give your selves a break when that happens, that is good. You two just keep doing what ever you can to get through each day.And I promise, your memories will soften,and you will laugh at her antics, once again. You’ll see. Much Love and Prayers -Judy A-
Thank you, Judy. What kind and helpful words you’ve shared with me today. xo
That period of time when Grief pretty much halts us in our tracks is the worst. Of not moving forward even a little bit each day. That very odd feeling of having no interest or curiosity about what;s next. Of having to force ourselves to put one foot in front of the other every day. It’s really the worst. Here’s hoping you and Don get past Grief’s deepest depths soon, and are able to remember all the 1000s of wonderful days you shared with Scout instead. I’m sure she’d want that too… ?
And it has definitely halted us in our tracks, Janet. Thank you.
I remember that sense of emptiness when my two dogs passed away. Not hearing the sound of their feet following you around the house is the most awful feeling. You have my deepest sympathy especially coming so soon after your Dad’s death.
Thank you, Betsy.
I love that you keep things honest and true…when I read your blog I know that whatever the message, it’s always real. xxoo
Thank you, Ann Marie.
I expect that I have already told you this, but you don’t ever need to apologise. I also expect that I have told you this which someone wise once told me. You have to feel the feelings. There is nothing wrong in that, all things come in time. Hugs to you though in the meantime! xx
Thank you so much, Amy.
Claudia, this is why I feel so drawn to your blog! It’s so REAL! I appreciate all of your posts no matter what the topic is. I always know it’s going to be REAL which is big for me. My Dad’s death anniversary is this Saturday, 2/27. (Suicide). It’s been 16 years, and I’m STILL grieving. To be honest, it does get better, but I still feel a loss. That being said, you take however long as you need to get thru the grief. Just promise me that you will take EXTRA care of yourself. I treated myself to little indulgences through my grief; a nap, a massage, a pedicure…Just little things that brought comfort. Oh, and don’t forget ice cream! Big hugs to you and Don. We will all be here for your next post.
I’m so sorry to hear that you lost your father in such a tragic way, Mamcy. Of course you’re still grieving. I understand. Thank you for your kind words.
Claudia, I saw this on Pinterest and thought of you. Well, it’s for anyone that’s lost an animal they love with their whole heart. I don’t know if it will come thru or not but it’s titled “9 things your deceased pet wants you to know.”
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/310044755577708804/?fb_ref=11470311459390306%3Ani3TacicxWI9osYu1s8S&invite_code=ff5ecc3ca02e4b2b9588b8490581b173&sender=11470311459390306
I lost my 14 year old Lab, Spatz and my 10 year old Great Dane the same week as 9/11….there are no words that can explain how it feels. My husband said then “No more dogs, it hurts too much to lose them.” But I only lasted 2 weeks without a dog in the house. I missed them greeting me when I came home, the toenail clicks on the tile floor and just their presence. I went to a rescue shelter and brought home Buster. My husband smiled from ear to ear….so we’ve never been without a dog. I couldn’t bear it.
You cry and grieve and talk about it as much as you need to. We’re here for you. I still talk to the dogs I’ve lost. They will always be a part of me.
As mine will always be a part of me. I understand. I’ve been thinking of all of them lately. Scout’s death has brought back memories of losing our other dogs and how painful that was. Thank you, Cheryl.
Dear Claudia, I wish I could bring you some of my lemon cake which seems to have magical powers, but as I hear you make the most tasty cakes ever, so I gave up on that and then, there is the distance as well, it might be difficult to send some from Netherlands… Take all the time you need, and please write whatever you feel like to write and as long as you want. I love the peach color of the pattern on the Roseville. Hugs, Susi.
I wish I could have a piece of that lemon cake, Susi! I bet it’s delicious. Thank you for understanding.
Sharing random thoughts is what friends do. When you were listing the things that need to be done ~ and to which you had no interest whatsoever in doing ~ it brought back so many memories of so many times talking to friends about that total feeling of complete loss when we lose someone. I remember not being able to remember what to do next in the course of a normal day, and after getting up in the morning, just wanting to go back to bed so I didn’t have to think anymore than necessary. These are life-changing monumental things that change our daily lives. So something so mundane as waking up and getting a cup of coffee is now changed.
I only hope it helps you to know we are all here. And to know that so many of us share those feelings and have walked the path in our own way and time, on our journey. So sadly, it is never just one time we are brought to make that trip.
Thinking of you every day…..
Don and I look at each other and sigh. We don’t know what to do…how to fill the time…you name it. Thank you, Chris.
Hi Claudia, I’m going to change the subject for a minute because I forgot to let you know I read one of your recommended books. “The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend”. I really liked it! Something different for me. I was happy to get it because my reading genre isn’t like yours, and that’s ok ’cause we’re all not alike!
Never stop believing your thoughts are helping others!
I’m glad you liked the book, Nancy. I really liked it, too. Thank you.
Take your time. You’re going down an awful long road. It took me about a year not to take a giant step at the bottom of our stairs where our old dog used to sleep. I think this is the first year I have finally let my mom go. I still miss her but she would have been 100 and totally ticked off if she were still here. Keep busy. Scout and your parents would want you to laugh enjoy every minute. It just hurts.
Love,
Eileen
It just plain hurts, Eileen. I know it will take a long time to come to terms with the passing of Mom and Dad. And Scout, as well. It’s all too much for me right now. I guess I have no choice but to take my time…thank you, Eileen. I love you.
Beautiful vase! I wrote two earlier comments…..but, your web page kept reloading. Not your fault…just want you to know…maybe that’s why people weren’t commenting. I’ll give it another go. I’m glad the prices came down on the Roseville. I have a collection of Hummels, from my grandmother…four boxes worth. Unfortunately, they are not worth what they once were, and people that have them for sale, don’t seem to be selling them either. Guess there isn’t a market for them now. So I guess it just shows that in this market, it certain.y depends on whether you are a buyer or a seller. Enjoy your evening! ;)
I don’t have any problem with my page reloading, so something tells me it’s the browser or the server. This kind of thing is so tricky and it almost always seems to be due to something on the reader’s end that is out of my control. Sorry!
It does. There are things I have that wouldn’t bring any money in nowadays. Hummels were big when we were young, but sadly, aren’t now. All those Dept. 56 Dickens’ Villages? They were supposed to be collectible – they’re worth nothing now!
You and Don are in my thoughts and prayers daily. Hugs to both of you.
Thank you, Dottie.
Words are hard, but feelings are present. We have been there on more than one occasion in the past few years, with friends, close family, and with our furry family members who live all too short of life. Grief is so expansive. Being with it is important, it honors the individuals we have lost. Be with one another and be with your grief. I’m so sorry.
Thank you, Mary Ann. We are determined to see this through and to be present. We won’t bury our feelings.
Good Morning Sweet Claudia….Your post about Scout and grief made me smile..NOT because it was funny or anything like that. But it brought back a memory…a memory now that I can smile at but at the time was not something to smile at..when our 2nd dog Chloe died 3 years ago after our move here to Arizona I told my husband “I am going to cry for 3 weeks”. You bet I did…Now why did I set such a silly timeline….I think I kept saying it so no one would “rush” my grief. I allowed myself the time to begin to heal as you are doing be gentle with yourself. I understand all too well. Cindy
You were protecting yourself, Cindy. I totally understand. You were saying, “Give me time.” We’re the same way but there’s no timeline involved.
What a treasure, Claudia! So, so beautiful.
Please don’t apologize for sharing your feelings. We’re here for you. I admire your ability to share. Sometimes I feel that I have buttoned up my feelings to my own detriment in terms of loss. The only way to get through it, though, is to forge ahead. If in doing so, there are tears and sadness, just remember you will get through to the other side if you don’t short circuit your grief.
I know that empty nest feeling. I had terriers, and they had two speeds: go, go, go, and zzzzzz. They were incorrigible, and we adored them. But as the grief subsided, I began to feel their little spirits with me as I went about the day. You will, too. but it takes time. And when the time is right, you will once again be the light in the life of some blessed little dog. But go at your own pace.
Hope this helps!
xo
Sheila
It does help. Thank you, Sheila.
Just know I understand and I am here for you!
Thank you, Michie.
Claudia, I had a fun day with a new friend today. Seeing things that made me think of my Charlie all day long. It’s just hard and I am grieving with you and Don. My hardest time is at night. I’m so alone and it is so quiet and I miss my furry boy so much. (darn I just started to cry). I miss him so so much there are just no words. You sharing your journey on your blog helps me. I write about my life also and the grieving will go on for my Charlie and my brother as long as it needs too.
The Roseville vase is so pretty. I saw some pieces today and the prices on them were crazy high. So far the best buys have been on Ebay. I did get a little McCoy bud vase today. It has a chip and crack but its still pretty and perfect in its imperfection! Know I’m here for you and sending you hugs and much love.
Linda
I’m here for you, too, my dear friend. We’re in uncharted territory right now and each day will be different. Knowing you are also going through this helps enormously (not that I would wish this on anyone, but there is a comfort in knowing someone truly understands because that person has also just lost loved ones.)
Claudia,
I am crying right now for you, Don and Scout. I know how you are feeling. We lost our Cav Lily the first of July. I can’t believe the emptiness and coldness in July a home could have. We lost my Mom a year ago and the same year our other Cav, Jack. You can see them on my Instagram page. It does get better, but still seems to take a long long time. We are all so much entwined with our loves whether it is a parent or our fur babies it has to be what it is. Take that time and God bless you both.
Tracy
And God bless you, Tracy. You are also going through the grieving process. I’m so sorry to hear of your losses – too many at once. I’m sending you lots of love and support.
Nobody can tell you how long you should grieve or how much Claudia…if they think they can they are fools…and also very cruel..I believe some people hold back because they just don’t know what to say but it’s not what you say that matters..it’s just the fact that you are listening..The new Roseville vase is so pretty…love those big blooms on it…
I love it too, Nancy. Thank you so much for your kind words.
Claudia, Ive been away from the blogs for so long. I had gotten a new computer and when I went to transfer everything I deleted my favorites which contained my favorite blogs. I thought everyone was lost forever. JUST this morning I remembered Bloglovin! and to my utter surprise I remembered my log in information and there you all were!!..
I am truly so very sorry for the losses you’ve suffered. I have lost both parents as well and Ive lost 6 dogs in the last 8 years. They are, my children since I was unable to have any. I lost 3 all last year… I know that pain and it hurts.. I still have one of my Lhasa Apso’s left, he is 15 blind, diabetic and has some parkinsons but so far he’s doing best he can. I also have 2 10 yr old Lab mixes and 2 pitbull mixes that were abandoned at the end of last year that we found in our neighbors yard. Losing a “pet” or your furchild as I like to call them hurts as much as losing a family member because that is what they are.
Losing your parents within 2 years, honestly, I can’t say I understand that kind of pain. My dad died when I was 9 years so I’ve spent mostly my whole life without him but, my mom passed when I was 29 and she was my best friend. That pain is still deep and still with me today even though it was 16 years ago ( I still can’t believe that) in my head is was yesterday. There is no time table on grief and there is no right or wrong way.. We just go along as we can..
On another note, that pottery is very very pretty..
So glad I found you again
Robyn
I’m glad you found me again, too. Robyn, I’m so, so sorry for the losses you have suffered. It hurts terribly. My sympathies and a big hug are being sent your way. Thank you so much for your kind words.
I’ve always felt sorry, to a degree, for those who don’t understand the love one can have for a
“pet”. You can never explain how you feel in a way that they will understand.
I can’t imagine never feeling the love that I have for my girl, Chelsea. She went thru
so much with me. She was always there and always loved me and never judged me.
She gave us almost 18 years of unconditional love that will be with us forever.
A love and bond that you can’t duplicate with anyone.
This is your place to tell it like it is and you do.
I hope you find being home will bring some comfort in dealing with your loss. I know it’s
full of memories but also a closeness as well.
Your pottery is really pretty. Very nice indeed. You have a great collection. Enjoy!
xo Monica
I am sorry, too. I think they lose out on such an amazing relationship; without demands, unconditional love…the list of rewards is endless.
Thank you for your kind thoughts, Monica.