Danish from Wisconsin, Cookies and Dolphin Punches From Seattle

It’s late. The week has been one of the hardest in my life. I lost my little guy this week. The one that was with me for 17 years. The one who was with me alone at night in that studio apartment in San Francisco. In that apartment in Los Angeles. Travels between all of those points. I still look for him walking around at my feet. Behind me when I write. In the kitchen when I make my coffee. Behind the door when I come home. He was a piece of my heart that was filled each time I saw him.

Got home today after a long week of getting back to the world and carrying around the reality that he is gone and is not coming back. I have not really even accepted that. It will be quite a long time before I do. Trying to work and write and stay sane in the walks in-between as well as the time at home.

Waiting for me when I got home were packages from my publisher and from Karen McQuestion (a wonderful writer who belongs to the same publishing house as me). They were gifts of joy and sweets and book about punch Dolphins. Karen had actually sent me a giant Danish with matching coffee mugs and coffee that look all kinds of awesome. That is because she is all kinds of awesome.

The folks at the publishing house sent cookies and a very kind note.  One of the women there – who is I believe the organizer of everything, sent over a book about punching Dolphins which was meant to put a smile on my face. It was the very packages themselves. The thoughts behind the delivery, that gave me pause to recognize how luck I am – but more important, how much an act of kindness can elevate spirits that have been listing to the same song on a loop (Story of my Life – Social Distortion) for over a week.

This was not a facebook comment or a text message – this was an act. Some kind of reach out from around the country that I could feel. Perhaps we all know what it’s like to loose someone close to us – Perhaps there is that universal understanding of that empty spot in the middle of your stomach that makes you cry when you realize that little head and whiskers is not there underneath your chin anymore. They understand the crying in the shower and the looks around in the silence when you realize the hollowness might not get filled.

Just sending thanks out to those amazing people. You gave me strength enough to at least write into the evening. My peace is there. Because of their kindness, it is also extending to the floors of my apartment.


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