Hope?

The house still seems curiously quiet. No furious barking at Portia's mortal enemies (the coffee grinder, kitchen garbage bag, and vacuum cleaner). No nails clicking on the hardwood floors during a game of chase with the kids. I know that she was an animal, but her passing has left a tangible absence in our family. An emptiness.

A couple of days after Portia's passing, I came down with flu. High fever. Aches. Misery. So that's why I'd felt so off-kilter. Not just sadness and stress and the fatigue of spending a night holding a dying dog.

The best said about last week is that it has passed. But today I can get out of bed without reeling (punch-drunk without the fun). And it is starting to feel like spring. Thanks for your sympathy and your visits. They added light to an otherwise dark week.