fine & quiet (sort of)

lush green hosta in my back garden

Raining, raining, raining - and you know the rain suits me just fine. More sounds of dripping water and rustling leaves, a gently snoring scraggly black dog asleep in her bed under my desk and the call of a loon far away in the distance somewhere. I used to turn the radio on these early mornings but lately I've been enjoying the peace and the quiet - paying attention to the sounds in our little world, all around us, as day breaks once again at 29 Black Street.

Things feel better today and thank you for all the kind and understanding comments. It's quite simple really, what I'm feeling. I want my dog back. I want my big red hunk of love back. I want Jake back and I want him back forever. And I can't help wanting that. Then when it begins to sink in how crazy that want and desire is, how futile ... that's what makes me feel sick, makes me feel breathless. That helpless feeling of realizing I can't ever have him back. I know with time this feeling will fade, it won't feel so sharp and desperate. I'm still in a place where I judge all time, always by, was Jake still here ? I'm in a place where in conversations with friends I hunt for opportunities to say his name ... out loud, I want to talk about him - as if he were still here ... with us. I'm madly in love with that dog. That dog Jake.

And I am so, so grateful that he and I managed to find each other and that I shared over 12 wonderful years with such a joyful spirit, as big as big can be. I feel very lucky and very privileged. Unfortunately feeling grateful and thankful doesn't stop me from wanting him back.

My apologies, when I sat down this morning my plan was to talk about how I had nothing to talk about this morning. That I felt quiet, nothing to say. Everything is fine. Fine & quiet.

I"ll always find a reason to talk about Jake. Love ya Noodle.


ferns