Today we received notice that Devin was buried on May 15 in Oak Grove Cemetary in Section 11A, Grave #88.

My first reaction when Den called me about the notice was, “Well, that’s good.” It’s good to know the date, the grave marker, the graveyard. More things for his scrapbook, more pieces of his short life that I get to keep. I don’t know, I felt like I was supposed to feel more about that plot of earth. But then every once in a while I get an image of his poor little body bured under the earth an I get a familiar feeling of panic. The idea of burial, in general has always made me feel a little panicky. But at the same time I know we made the right decision for this. I don’t know. I’m just not a fan of graves, period. I’m much much fonder of his tree growing in our front yard.

We are allowed to place a grass level baby marker at the gravesite, and we are allowed to plant flowers or put out potted plants or urns from March 15 to July 1. I’m still really unsure about what I want to do, if anything. The idea of planting some flowers is nice.

It got me thinking about what to do around his tree, though. I think I want to plant some flowers around its base, to provide color since the tree is done blooming. Yes indeed, I think I want to do that.

One of the things I’ve learned from my loss is not to worry so much about what may happen in the future. I know that seems counter-intuitive - it seems more likely that I’d worry more about things that could happen, now that I know what really can go wrong. But instead I find my internal dialog tossing out worthless worrying. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring; I don’t know if what I am worrying about is even going to happen; and quite frankly I am wasting the time that I do have with worrying over the future.

I caught myself doing it today, thinking about my pregnant SIL. I was driving out to a bar to meet with hubby and some of our friends and relatives, and of course my mind started to wander as it tends to when thinking about my SIL. Very quickly I was picturing her with a baby and found my body and mind clenched, all these “what if”s running through my head. But I gave a good mental shake.

It’s not that I shouldn’t feel bad about the situation. It sucks, it’s going to suck, and there’s nothing much I can do about that. My son is gone. Her baby will always be a reminder of what I don’t have. But at the same time, that’s all it is - a reminder. Her having a baby or not does not and will not ever change the fact that my son is gone.

But despite all that, actually being around her isn’t hard. It’s the anticipation of being around her that is hard - and imagining the future even harder. So I really have to remind myself to take a step back and tackle each day one at a time. I really just don’t have the mental capacity to worry about all the days that will come later, all I have in me is worrying about today, and today isn’t so bad. Tomorrow I’ll worry about tomorrow, and it probably won’t be so bad either. Taking one day at a time makes life manageable. I find that worrying is one area that procrastination isn’t just beneficial, it’s required.

::

So yes, I hung out with several of my BILs and SILs today. (Okay, so one SIL and one future-SIL, but I get tired of typing all of that out!) It was good to just be social and have a couple of drinks and spend time out with my husband.

FSIL, whom I haven’t seen too many times recently, came over to talk to me for a little bit. She told me how utterly brave I was to go to SIL’s baby shower, and how she thinks I’m amazing and just so strong. I think what gets me is her blunt honesty. She comes right out and says things like, “I want to ___, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” She doesn’t hang back and fret - she marches right up to me and gives me a big hug and tells me how she’s feeling. And that’s so awesome. I know without a doubt how much she cares, that she thinks about us.

I mentioned to Den at one point how much I love pregnant SIL’s belly (she’s around 38 weeks now) and how sometimes I wish I could reach out and touch it… but that I know pregnant women don’t exactly always appreciate that. So of course my husband, being slightly intoxicated, marched over to SIL and said, “Natalie wants to touch your belly, but doesn’t want to ask.” Oi. But SIL said it was perfectly okay, so I got to feel it. (That sounds dirty.) Later she motioned to me when baby H was moving around and I got to feel a kick!! That was so cool. She apparently has her little feet up in SIL’s ribs just like Devin did, hehe. A couple of times I glanced over to see SIL gingerly shifting her weight and I grinned remembering exactly how that felt. Maybe that’s part of the reason that I feel so connected to her - you’d think I’d want to run far away from any reminders, but I guess it’s similar to the scrapbooking I do, and all the momentos I keep out - reminders of Devin aren’t necessarily bad things. I love being able to say, “Oh yeah, Devin did that all the time.” And I’m so so glad that I can do that with family and it doesn’t cause conversation to drop off in uncomfortable silence. Everyone treats Devin as part of the family… not something to be uncomfortable about.

Not that it’s always pleasant or easy. I was talking to BIL about the cradle they have and how important traditions and family heirlooms are… how a family tree is the history of a family and a part of who you are, that connection to the past. I mentioned how important it was to add Devin to my family tree, that he be a part of our history forever. BIL choked up and said, “He absolutely is. He was your beautiful, beautiful baby boy.” Which of course got me choked up too.

I am so damn thankful for the family that we have. I really am.

We are home!

We stayed at the MGM Grand, and I have to say we were very pleased with that choice. The hotel room was very nice - not opulent or fancy, but elegant and very nice. The casino seemed to have more high-rollers than other casinos, it definitely seemed to be one of the more upper-class casinos. We didn’t really gamble much, so whatever. The MGM also had a very nice selection of restaurants, though finding anything on the cheaper side wasn’t easy.

The night we arrived we walked down to the Bellagio to pick up our tickets to O. I made the very bad mistake of wearing my black heels (since we weren’t going to go back to our room to change). It took about 50 steps before the strap dug into my heel, and it got progressively worse. I have worn those shoes before, and they are the most comfortable heels I have owned, but I forgot I haven’t worn them in a year.

Both when we checked in at the MGM and when we picked up our O tickets they couldn’t find our reseveration. We sweated for a few minutes while they searched on their computer, then took our computer-printed receipt (we had paid online) and went into the back. Both times. Color us freaked out. Finally they came back and said something about how our name was inputted funny. I decided we will change our last name to Smith. (Our last name is St. Jean - it ALWAYS gets screwed up in computer systems. Always.)

But, O tickets in hand, we walked over to Paris to look around. Very nice hotel, we’d consider staying there in the future. Found a cafe to eat dinner at. I did not have my camera with me though (because no cameras are supposed to be allowed in O), so no pictures of the Bellagio or Paris. :( On the way back to the Bellagio we got to see the fountain show, very cool!

Then we went into the theatre to see O. First of all, I was wicked annoyed that everyone had a camera and were snapping photos. A lady was letting some of them know that cameras weren’t allowed, but no one said anything to most of them! I was just mad because I didn’t even BRING my camera with me, because those were the rules, and I’m pissed that people just ignore the rules. (That was a theme of the trip, btw - does no one care to follow instructions/rules anymore?) I would have LOVED to take some photos of the inside of that theatre…. the ceiling was all glass with aqua and blue fish pattern on them, glowing. The show itself was pretty amazing… my only complaint was that they had several things happening at once - synchronized swimmers below an acrobatic show. You couldn’t watch both at once, so you always missed something! But it was a very very neat show. Very surreal. Even Den enjoyed it. We now definitely want to go see KA and Mystere.

After O I hobbled back to the MGM and we crashed. So exhausted.

Monday was a day for sight-seeing. First the Grand Buffet at the MGM for breakfast. Not cheap, that’s for certain, but OH the food. All sorts of breakfast foods, everything you could imagine. Did I mention I LOVE breakfast? Waffles and pancakes and eggs and bacon and crepes and fruit and salad and much more. We appropriately stuffed ourselves.

Then I grabbed my camera and we set out. For the rest of the trip I’ll have a nice photo journal - once I go through all 500+ photos. First stop was the Lions in the MGM. Awesome animals. Then we set off to see the Excalibur, Luxor, and Mandalay Bay where we went to the Shark Reef aquarium. Very neat aquarium and I got some AWESOME photos. Den got even better video - our camcorder kicks ass.

Then we ate lunch, and I don’t remember where. Oh yes… Dick’s Last Resort. Den’s request. I had a wrap that was actually really good, even though I still wasn’t all that hungry. We also checked out the fancy restaurants in the MGM and made a reservation for dinner.

My feet were really hurting at that point, but we had so much more to see. So we ended up taking the tram up to Harrah’s so we wouldn’t have to walk all the way up to the Mirage (where I wanted to go). Harrah’s was not a casino I ever want to go back to. I would say the average age of the patrons there was 70. Lots and lots of white haired ladies, people with walkers and on scooters. The place looked really old and run-down as well. Blech. We scooted out of there as fast as we could.

The Mirage! Which has the Secret Garden - tigers and dolphins!! And… it was closed. I nearly burst into tears, I swear. It closed at 5:30 and it was now 6:00. No tigers for me. :( Den was begging me not to let this ruin my vacation, but damnit! So instead we had a milkshake. I was dying of thirst pretty much the entire trip… I drank SO much water, even at one point purchasing a bottle of water for $5 because it was all that I could find. (No, there were no water fountains in the fancy hotels.)

By this point I have to say that I was in a lot of pain. I was trying SO hard to just push through, I wanted to see more hotels, but every step was pain, all I could think about was my feet. Not just the blisters, but the heels and balls of my feet hurt so incredibly much. I sat down every chance I could get, but even that didn’t help too much - soon as I stood up they’d be hurting just the same as before.

We got into the Venetian, which was a pretty cool hotel, and we got some photos and video of the mural on the ceiling. We made it up to the shops - which would have been really cool to look at, had I been in any shape to look at anything - when my stomach did a flip-flop and that milkshake decided it needed to come back up. So I ended up speedwalking through the Venetian, not really seeing anything, desperately looking for a bathroom. I was ready to burst into tears and start screaming, “I’m going to puke on you!” at the people who would just stand in my way. And I couldn’t find a freakin bathroom. Finally we did, and yes some milkshake did come back up. Not a good memory of Vegas.

That was about when I threw in the towel. We wanted to make it back down to the Paris and Bellagio to get photos and video, but I just couldn’t do anymore, all I wanted to do was lay down in bed and cry. And we had a fancy dinner planned for that evening and the last thing we wanted was to have me not enjoy it. So that’s what we did… took the tram back to our hotel where I hobbled up to our room. I took a bath and rubbed my feet and just kind of chilled out for 2 hours. It did me a world of good.

We had dinner at Fiamma, an italian restaurant in the MGM. It was a traditional 3-course meal, each course priced seperately of course. We ended up sharing the entire meal, just ordering one of each course, as we were still so full. But I have to say, the entire meal was fantastic. Just amazing. Our first course was a salad, but an unusual salad with pistashios and gorgonzola and pear slices and some tangy vinagrette dressing. Our second course was freshly made pasta with cheese and peas. For our entree we splurged on the lobster and filet mignon entree at $85. Oh but it was good. The steak was cooked perfectly, and the lobster, well, I ate the lobster. I am not a seafood person at all, but it was so good.

After dinner we went to the Centrifuge bar for a drink. It was a cool bar, the drink I had was good (my traditional White Russian, of course), and much to our amusement at one point the music was turned up and the bartenders and servers climbed up onto the bar to dance. It was just a really fun way to end the night.

And yet again we got to our room and passed out immediately.

The next morning we ate at the Rainforest Cafe, which is something quite… unique. It was a totally themed-out restaurant with mechanical elephants and monkeys and parrots all making noises around the tables. You’ll have to see the photos. The ceiling was all lit like stars, and every once in a while a “thunderstorm” would happen where the lights would flash and sound would rumble. And my waffle was quite good indeed. :)

Before checking out I gambled $20 in the slot machines, I just HAD to play the Frog Prince machine (nickle slots). ;) I lost $5, then had to cash out and leave.

We are already planning our next trip to Vegas. Don’t know when - need to get me a job and save some money to do it - but maybe next year. You definitely need more than one full day of sight-seeing to see everything. And we have to go see more shows. I think we’ll stay at the MGM again, since it was just a nice time, it was comfortable and had a lot of things right there that we enjoyed. I’d go back to Fiamma and Centrifuge. And hey, lions!

So now we’re home, the cat is asleep on his back snoring, the dogs are home from the kennel and are taking a nap (in between barking madly at the mailman and other weird things), and I need to go to work shortly. Waaahhhhh. What I really want to do is climb into bed and sleep. I’m exhausted.

Remember when I said I thought I was ovulating? And a couple of days ago I noticed that my cervix was really really low, but since that was the first time I’d checked it in about 6 months I didn’t really know if that was a recent change or simply because of giving birth. I was SO bloated two days ago, and while it’s gone down a little I’m still bloated. Also, I’ve been wicked cranky the last couple of days. Just ask Den, he’ll agree with you. (But not outloud, for fear of making me mad.)

I’m sure you know what this is all leading up to: hellooooo AF. I was actually REALLY surprized when I saw blood, because I don’t feel any different. There was no feeling of, “HEY, it’s here!” Nope. I just went pee, looked down and nearly fell off the toilet in shock.

I am happy that I’m finally starting my cycle and we can get started. I’m relieved that my body is still working in that aspect (when I hit 9 weeks post-partum I was starting to wonder). But I’m frankly pissed it showed up on the eve of my vacation to Las Vegas! Son of a bitch.

But regardless, I need to go get some sleep before we get up early, get the house set up, and get to the airport. I always manage to think of 10 things I forgot to do right before we leave.

Wowsers, I’m suddenly getting feeling back in my belly button.

You see, I have always had a very sensitive belly button. To the point where I think I may have kicked my husband a time or two early on in our relationship, when he thought it was cute to stick his finger in my belly button just to “tickle” me. It wasn’t so much a tickle as a NEVER DO THAT AGAIN.

When I got pregnant I was a little concerned about this sensitivity of mine, because if it was this bad now, how bad was it going to get?? People would warn me that it was going to hurt later. I waited for it.

And instead, my belly button went numb. And I mean completely numb. It nearly popped at the end (but not quite), and I would poke it and play with it. It amused me. I could wiggle it and there were no shooting pains, no feeling like a bug was crawling up my tailbone, nothing.

A week or two ago Den was poking at my belly button and mentioned that I still didn’t jump when he did it. I said, “Did what?” Ummm, yeah, so it was still quite numb and I hadn’t even known he’d poked me.

So it was rather a shock when just now I was trying to clean out the belly button (it’s a full innie again) and YOW. Felt like I’d just stabbed myself right through my midsection. It’s seriously weird, am I freak or are there other people who get these horrible shooting pains when trying to clean their belly button?

Well that’s one thing back to normal. Now if my belly button could have a little chat with my face, my hair, my stomach muscles, and possibly my uterus. (Hello AF? It’s been 9 weeks now. I won’t be sad when you come… I just want to get started, okay?) Of course the one thing that’s back to normal is the one thing I would happily have done without!

Today I had a dentist appointment. Last week I had a full set of x-rays taken of my teeth, and today was an oral examination and going over everything with the dentist.

I do not like going to the dentist, let me start by saying that. The last time I went was, ummm, prior to 2005, I know that much. And that was the first time I’d gone in about 2 years. (When I became an adult and was put in charge of making my own dentist appointments I “forgot” to do it. I really really don’t like going to the dentist.) So it’s been a while and I was fearing the worst. Well it wasn’t quite the worst, but it certainly wasn’t the best either.

I need three fillings. They weren’t visible on x-ray, but the top of those teeth are pitted and decaying. Bleh.

Actually I’d need five fillings, but two of them are on my wisdom teeth, which need to come out. I’ve known that for a while, this was just confirmation. The teeth themselves are not looking great, the gums around them is bad too… it’s just not a good space to be, way back there in my mouth. Plus I have some major crowding issues in my lower arch… it’s pretty bad. Removing those wisdom teeth would give them a little more room.

Which brings me to item three: orthodontics. Now when I was around 13 years old the dentist referred me to an orthodontist. I sat sullenly in the chair during the exam, decided he was making it all up to get money and my teeth were fine, and furthermore I decided I liked the way my top teeth have a sort of fang effect. So I flatly refused to get braces. Now, 12 years later, I am considering doing it. My lower arch has gotten far worse, as I mentioned, and I have a huge overbite. Plus there are some health benefits to fixing the crowding. Do I regret not doing it when I was 13? No. I would have been totally pissed off and miserable back then. Now I’m capable of making an informed decision. (However, it would have been nice to get it paid for by my parents. It’s going to be an ouch… and consequently a “can’t do it right now.”)

And lastly there’s the pain in my jaw. My exam today involved not just looking at my teeth, but also evaluation of my jaw muscles and gums. She pressed on my arm and said she was going to press on the muscles around my jaw just like that, and to let her know if it hurt. (It was totally painless on my arm.) So she started on my cheek and, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yep. Ow. Ow. There too.” Needless to say I’ve been clenching a lot. The whole area is tender, all of it. The thing to stop it is a custom-made small little mouth guard thingie to wear at night (and one during the day, if it’s bad enough to need to re-train me).

Oh, and some day I would like to get my teeth whitened, because they’re at a point now that I feel seriously embarrassed.

So currently I have an appointment with the hygenist for a cleaning and one with the dentist for the fillings. Then I need to book an apppointment with an oral surgeon for the extractions. At some point, when we can afford it, I’ll go see an orthodontist. Ummmm, yeah, I need a job.

::

I realized that it’s important to me to get my body healthy. That includes taking better care of my teeth. Routine cleanings, fillings, extractions - whatever needs to get done. I’ve been so good with taking care of myself in other ways… I take care of my skin, I get regular pap smears, I have appointments with my doctor to manage my depression. But I ignore my teeth. This needs to change.

Remember I said I was 13 and threw a fit about the orthodontics? Fast forward a few years and I also refused to have my wisdom teeth removed (which is why I still have them now). My reasoning for both was along the lines of: this is how nature did it, this is how it’s supposed to be, this is who I am, and I am not doing anything “cosmetic” to my body.

Over time I have into some acceptance of the idea of making improvements: dying one’s hair, having moles removed, whitening your teeth. I still think that you do have to love your body for what it is, though - even with saggy boobs and fat thighs. It’s okay to improve yourself, but you also have to accept yourself.

I’m also realizing that some of those things I wrote off as being simply cosmetic have other benefits. Having wisdom teeth removed isn’t just done for fun, apparently having them in creates a breeding ground for bacteria and can hasten decay of neighboring teeth. Plus in my case it’s causing a lot of other problems. And orthodontics, well, the dentist explained how when teeth are crowded there’s less space between them and thus the gum and bone is more succeptable to damage… it tends to develop problems faster. And my overbite, well it’s not just cosmetic either… that can also cause part of my muscle problems, because things aren’t aligned right.

So today I was thinking about all of these things and thinking about how my opinions have changed a lot, especially in the last two months, and I had an epiphany. My core belief has been altered: I no longer believe that nature is always right. Nature fucks things up - quite frequently, in fact. I do still want to trust in the way things are supposed to go: that labor, when given a chance, will work a intended… but I’ve also come face-to-face with the very harsh reality that it doesn’t always. There’s a lot to be said for taking what you’re given, in trusting the process and appreciating what you have. But I also understand that sometimes stepping in is warranted.

It’s quite a radical change. I don’t feel so naive. Just because I think things should be (or are) a certain way, doesn’t mean they really are. Sometimes you have to take what life deals you, and sometimes you need to improve the situation. We have that option now. Crazy humans.

Everything is different now. But it feels like not only did the train come off the tracks, it was put back on the wrong one and is hurtling in a totally different direction. I think a lot of it is that it’s too painful to go back to the old life. I find myself thinking a lot about starting my career, getting back into programming, and keeping busy with my life. I felt a lot like the old me, the college me… getting excited by coding problems, unable to walk away from the computer until it’s fixed (we’re talking hours at a time). It feels pretty good to rouse the rusty corners of my brain. Oh yeah, I remember how to do this.

I’ve started a new strategy: waking up at 7am every morning, whether or not I have to (and I only have to once a week). It’s really amazing how much longer your day feels when you’re up in the morning and don’t sleep until noon. I find myself looking for things to keep occupied with. Today I went to work at 11 and stayed until 6, sorting paperwork and coding for their database.

For the first time I am seriously applying for a full-time job. I’ve never had a full-time one before. I was a full-time student, then an immigrant, then just waiting for a baby to arrive (before and during pregnancy) so I could be a full-time mommy. Now I’m faced with way too much time and a need to make something of my life. It’s not too surprizing that I’ve turned back to what I do best. It’s something that I get a sense of pride from, a sense of purpose. I need that.

I have absolutely no idea if I’m even going to be called in for an interview for this job, though. Other people tell me I will, I’m good at what I do… and I know that… but the resume isn’t about being good at what you do, it’s about being good at writing resumes, and that’s not exactly something I have a lot of experience with. And my mom’s exclamation of “But you write so well!” only goes so far in technical writing - it’s a different game entirely. The rules are all different. I had a minor freakout this morning as I was printing my resume and cover letter out (on high-quality resume paper, crisp and white). No matter how confident I feel about what I wrote, when my hand reaches for that print button I am struck by an overwhelming feeling that it’s all wrong. So I spazzed for a while, fretted, then printed - several times, since the printer kept smudging a tiny bit. And then printed several more times because I screwed up my signature. Den said they’re not going to be grading my signature. I replied, “But I just crossed my L!” But I got it all very carefully put together (in a pristine white full-size envelope) and got it in the mail. And then proceeded to have another bout of fretting over it all. But there’s nothing more I can do now, so I have to let it go.

::

This weekend is bound to be hard for many of us. I am steadfastly refusing to look at any ad on billboards or TV or listen to any on the radio. I turn my head, I turn the station. I distract myself. It does not exist, it does not exist. I will not be sending a card to my mom or my MIL. I will not be making a phone call. I will not be thinking about it at all. I refuse. Every time it’s mentioned I flinch.

So we’re going to Las Vegas. No, seriously, we’re going to Vegas this weekend. A little while back Den said to me out of the blue, “What do you think about going to Vegas for [day that shall not be named]? I don’t want you to be at home.” I was in no position to argue. I don’t want to be home either. We’re going to see Cirque du Soleil, which is like one of those things that has been on my “to do before I die” list for years, and we’re going to walk around and I’m going to take a lot of pictures. I’m as excited as I could be, given the circumstances. Looking forward to our time away together. We leave on Sunday morning.

I just hope I can get out of this funk by then. I’ve been right moody lately… and not in a sad way. More of a tap your fingers one more time and I’m going to bite your hand off kind of way. Fun. (Especially for Den!)

Last night after I posted about Zoe I sat on the couch with her. I watched TV, she napped. After a little while I nudged her over then pulled her on top of me. She’s not a tiny dog - she’s 30lbs - but she’s not huge either. So I layed on the couch with her bum on my lap and her head on my chest and just held her for half an hour while I watched TV. (She wasn’t too thrilled at first, but fell asleep anyways.)

It was so so calming to cradle her like that, to stroke her silky fur and just relax in my love for another creature. It made me think that maybe when I do get to hold my next child it will heal a part of me, the aching emptiness. Not permanently, not completely… but for a moment. My love for Zoe reminds me that no matter how much I love my Devin, no matter how much my heart aches for missing him, there is always more love available.

::

I am not feeling so good this morning. So much for wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans - I’m way bloated this morning. It actually hurts.

The bloating is not helping my self-image at all, either. I’m having a rough day of it: I got undressed to get in the shower and caught a look of my boobs in the mirror and nearly burst into tears. The big bloated pregnant-looking belly is making it that much worse. Did I mention my oily face that is breaking out all over the place, despite using Proactiv twice a day? I am tired of not liking what I see in the mirror. I’m sad that I can’t wear 99% of my old wardrobe because everything makes me look pregnant, which just sparks off a whole wave of sadness.

Maybe I’d have felt like this even had Devin lived. Maybe it would have frustrated me just as much. But somehow I don’t think so. If I had a baby to take care of, if I had a baby to make up for the changes, it would feel like a fair trade. I’d be sad, but also proud of my battlescars. But now? Now it’s all just an ugly reminder of what I don’t have. I lost my body and my baby. I’m not seeing many positives there.

Just frustrated. I’m going to work so I don’t have to think about it.

This is Zoe. She is my fun-loving little shadow dog.

This is her as a puppy, this is the photo I fell in love with. I saw her face online and I just knew, I knew, she had to be mine.

And this is her all grown up:

I stumbled across that puppy photo just now, rearranging some files on my computer. I opened it up and stared, smiling and tearing up at how little she was. I find it hard to remember what I saw when I first found her listed on Petfinder. Did I see the fear in her eyes? I certainly never imagined she’d grow up looking like she does. But now when I gaze at her precious puppy photo I see Zoe as she is today. I see her playfulness and trusting nature. I see her love and loyalty. And, yes, I still see her anxiousness. She never really grew out of that - but at least it only surfaces in predictable bursts, in between an attitude of sheer joy for life.

I love that little dog. She has the kind of personality that can brighten you no matter what. She can get bitchy with her big brother, but she has a remarkably positive attitude, even for a dog. She doesn’t sulk, she doesn’t plot. She doesn’t get angry. She never argues with anything. She LOVES to play, but the minute you trap her - grab her nose, pin her down - she goes immediately limp and just starts wagging her tail furiously. “Oh darn, you got me!” she’d laugh if she could speak. She does get scared - but the moment the scary moment has passed she’s wagging her tail and grinning like only a dog can.

It could have been hard to have that around in my grief. It could have. But she doesn’t fake it. She isn’t trying to cheer me up, she isn’t wishing I would forget my pain. She’s just taking the moment for what it is, treasuring it, enjoying it, living it. And that’s all there is to her.

Frankly that sounds like a wonderful way to live life right now.

And when I can’t, well, then I can look over at my weird little dog rolling around on her back, bone in her mouth, growling and kicking her legs wildly in the air in a way that defies any common logic, and laugh.

What the hell is with this sinus thing I have?? I was feeling much better, then today I feel horrid again. I can barely breathe. My nose is starting to hurt from all the nose-blowing. Ugh!! Go away!!