After a self imposed break, I'm back. The past almost 4 months have been the most difficult, sad, darkest and hopeful I've ever experienced. The fire that tore through our house and our lives, on June 19th, changed me forever. Some bad changes and some good changes. I've been trying to focus on the good.
We are still displaced from our home while it is being rebuilt. Living with our adult daughter has been good. We all needed to lean on each other through this. Having my son and daughter-in-law close by has also been instrumental in our healing. At the end of September we all took a family vacation together and, for a brief moment in time, were able to laugh, play and relax. And forget.
On October 12th we adopted little Huck. A 7 month old Beagle mix who has brought innocence, trust, joy and light back into our lives. We feel like a family that is going to be okay.
Going back to the house today, we took Lucy and Huck with us so they could enjoy our backyard in the beautiful Autumn weather. Sitting there, greeting us as usual since the fire, is a little red ball. We received this in our first monthly shipment of the Barkbox subscription I had signed up for. It is the only surviving dog toy we have since it was the only one Peanut Butter and Jethro took outside. It's a sad reminder of sweet, innocent lives lost.
Today I was feeling especially sad and melancholy. Even seeing how much fun Lucy and Huck were having chasing leaves, digging in wood piles and generally being happy dogs. I couldn't help but think of Buttercup sitting on the bench and how she would be soaking up the warming rays of afternoon sun. Or of Peanut Butter chasing Jethro through the tall weeds and being barely able to see either of them. But being able to hear their racket.
We are having a beautiful water feature created in the backyard as a memorial to our lost pets. I anticipate the sound of water gently cascading out of boulders specifically chosen to represent each of the dogs. But more, I envision that the little red ball will always play a larger part of our remembrance of the pets that we still miss so much.