The yellow roses are abundant right now. They were glistening with raindrops this morning.
This is my grandson Andrew. He is sitting on my couch playing games. Right now he’s looking at grandma taking his picture.
I ate one of the peppers from my garden.
Last night I sliced fresh cucumber and layered it over my salad. It tasted wonderful. Nothing like store produce, which often tastes like cardboard.
Last night in the wee hours I felt Charlie lie down against my back. He didn’t stay long. But still, it was a bit more progress.
Charlie has always been submissive. If you reach down to pick him up, he will belly flop on the floor like he’s afraid. I don’t know why he does this. I guess it’s just his nature.
His back is still hurting even though I’m giving him the pain pills the vet gave me. I hope the acupuncture helps him on Wednesday when I next take him in.
Every morning I wake up and the loss of Abi slaps me in the face. I remember that she isn’t here with me and tears well in my eyes.
Last night I was standing just outside the patio door while Charlie was outside. When I looked at Charlie through the film of my tears, he looked just like Abi.
For just a moment, it almost seemed like she was back here with us.
The grief makes it seem like a foreign entity has crept into my body. I am a mere puppet waiting for it to pull me in the direction it wants me to go. First I’m crying and then suddenly I’m numb.
Charlie is always close to me. I pet him and talk to him and tell him I love him throughout the day. Last night he went under the bed again. I wonder if he’s looking for Abi?
I’m looking for Abi too. Will she be a butterfly that lands on my flowers? A bird that sits on the fence and chirps its song?
I miss you so much, Abigail Rose.