Love, Life and Puppy Dog Tales

I cried last month. Truth be told, I've cried most months of my life.  Something will be emotionally important in some way - like a song, or a movie - and I will cry.  It's not always out of sadness.  It can easily be from happiness and joy.  It's your body's way of letting those emotions spill out and evening out the chemistries in your brain and body. Last month's tears were tears of disappointment. I hadn't been riding my bike for a bit.  Then we moved and I was even less motivated to ride my bike.  Where we've moved to though is flat.  Seriously.  FLAT.  It should have been my dream come true place to ride.  I told myself I was settling in.  I was putting our house in order.  Waiting for the internet.  Waiting for the plumber.  Waiting for the electricity to come back on after a power pole replacement.  Waiting for the internet (it finally happened).  Waiting for the plumber - again....

Her intense grief reverberated throughout the forest and across the canyons.  I had talked with her only moments before, holding a secret inside. I knew what she did not know in that moment and I held on to the secret that wasn’t mine either to have or to share.  I gave her a little bit more time with her hope. Her hope that she would not have to grieve. She reached out and stroked my dog.  She thanked me for coming and helping in her most trying time.  She called me a hero. I certainly didn’t feel like any kind of hero. I came to this search with the same hope she had. He hadn’t been missing that long.  There was still a chance that he would make it. Still a chance that he was waiting for us to find him so he could go home. I drove through the night, knowing it was going to rain. I  drove hundreds of miles and a half dozen hours. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know him.  That has never mattered. What has always mattered was tha...