I’m not sure we ever get over the loss of someone who was special to us. We just stumble forward as best we can, hoping that the pain of their memory and loss of our time with them will soften over time. What has surprised me most about the losses in my life is that the loss of my black lab 25 years ago is the loss I feel most often. Alice was playful, happy, not-too-bright, but always loving, even when I left her home alone for long periods of time, or was too busy to play with her. 

I think in the end, time is the best healer. Time, and also finding a place in your heart to hold your fond memories of those you’ve lost. When I accidentally broke the hydraulic mechanism on one of my brother’s kitchen stools, he said “You HAD do do it! You coudn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” 

We both cracked up. I knew he didn’t care about the chair. He was making a joke out of it by channeling our deadmother’s voice. He did a flawless impression of her kind of response to an accident or dumb mistake. In that moment, I loved my brother and we both remembered our dead mother for the crazy shit she used to say to us. 

The picture above is me with my dad, his beloved Mini, and wife, Marcia. I miss the crazy shit he used to do, too!

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