Love, Life and Puppy Dog Tales

It's different each time I say goodbye.   I have taken them on trips just to see their favorite place or do their favorite things. I have had their friends over to share in the things they love - ice cream, jerky, you name it.   I have sat quietly with them, hand on their head or chest.  Talked to them, even though I knew they couldn't hear.   I have held them after it's over, sometimes cursing the powers that be over things I didn't understand to make that day come to pass.  Sometimes just caressing and gently stroking them, knowing that it is only for me now that I do that.  I do it because I need that.  I need that connection.  I need to feel that connection at least one more time.  Soon, that memory will be the only connection I have to reach out to feel them again. I have learned that, even though I have said goodbye, they are not gone.  Not truly gone.  They are only as far as my memory allows them to be...

I met strength yesterday. I never realized it could have a persona. I had never thought of it as anything more than a part of character. Despite the broken and well displaced humerus that appeared to have happened a few weeks ago, despite the broken collar bone... despite the broken and also displaced sternum that appeared very recent... despite the bullet in his body, that by all evidence presented was shot by a coward, from behind, as the path of the shrapnel indicated, despite the wounds on his feet from dragging himself, and despite the tremendous abdominal pain that made his whole body tremble... despite all of that, he looked me in the eye with a distinct steadiness. He held himself together and held my gaze, his strength personified in front of me. I was sadden by his presentation - how his life could have been so abjectly disregarded by most who saw him probably every day. I was grateful for the one who called and said he needed help, so we could help him. I wa...