And so, I continue

On grief, learning to care for myself and facing my fears by once again, walking out my door

It was a beautiful day for a walk and Waffy and Tug’s ears danced on the breeze, heads outstretched in the spring sunshine, as we drove to the trailhead. We were meeting a friend of mine there and as we pulled in, her bright smile mirrored the brightness of the weather. It was almost summer and even with the dark fear of Waffle’s odd gait that had been clouding my days like recent thunderstorms, I couldn’t help but smile upon seeing my friend. It was impossible not to smile with her. She was that kind of friend — bringing out the lightness in everyone around her.

The girls, who loved her just as much as I did, howled in glee and leapt from the car in excitement. Cookies flying to contain the frenzy, we headed out but we didn’t even make it past the field and onto the trail that day. Waffle’s hind legs gave out and those 40 odd feet became the last walk she and I took together for quite some time.

Grief is a strange companion and it has accompanied me all over New England these past eigh…