{ the jaunty magpie }

I apologize for the maudlin post, but I looked at the date, August 19th, and I think it will be a while before it can be just another day in summer.  It was a year ago, to the day, that we said goodbye to our sweet, darling pup, Indy. As sad a day as it was, it was one of the most special days we could have hoped for -- we made it a Day of All the Favorite Things. We took her to her favorite places, she ate whatever she wanted, she saw as many of her favorite people as possible, and when it was time to say goodbye, she never left our arms, quietly passing away in our home, in her own bed.

I still miss her, I really do. I'm so very grateful for our new dog, BK (Bua Kao), who we adopted this year; I think if we didn't have her fuzzy, sweet face, today would be so much more difficult. I really dreaded today; I thought about it often, wondering how I would feel a year later, working from home, all by myself. But that's not the case; I have Beeks, and even if she wasn't here, a year gives you a chance to accept a loss. That's not to say you ever get over it. You'll be surprised when sadness suddenly hits you out of nowhere -- I have moments where I miss Indy so much, little things that only she did, that can never be replaced. 

But you learn to live with loss, which is something I talk to others about, when a loved one leaves us. You re-learn how to live in the world that's missing a big piece of it. Nothing can ever replace what's gone. You'll always have a little sadness in your life, but at the same time, I think it makes you love more. You value the lives in this world a little more, and you're more willing to give your heart, maybe in the hopes no one ever has to feel as sad as you did when you realized a part of it was gone. 

I don't mind not being over you, Indy. I don't think I ever want to be, because it's a constant reminder of how important it is to have an open, vulnerable heart. 

Jaunty Fine Print: Photographs by Denise Sakaki