I guess there's a reason for the term 'old haunt'.
A place often visited in the past.
A place where memories were made...
It doesn't seem to imply a frightening place...just a place of ghosts...good ghosts...
...echoes of laughter, footsteps, faint dog barks. The shaking off of water and a jingling collar...
And so it is with me these days that in my passage to get through grief,
I have been walking these same footsteps that I used to with Griffin.
The clock inside me knows around what time it was to 'go out'.
I find myself stopping projects instinctively around 2 in the afternoon...
It's a bit of therapy just to try and get out and walk and talk and remember.
This morning trusting sidekick Rosie and her lady Regina and I
went out to the lighthouse in Shirley...
We four spent many a beautiful morning wandering these fields and grounds.
It's an empty feeling getting in the van for an adventure without
my main ingredient, Griffin.
A friend said the other night when I mentioned that emptiness,
"yeah, it's not like you had a Chihuahua".
Indeed Griffin was a big boy who took up a lot of real estate,
and not just physically but his character was just as large.
So we made our way down the trail with the spirits of Griff floating alongside.
The spring will come and go again and this rawness will ebb and flow...
At home it's the same.
Big spaces, empty beds.
He was always made comfy with a bed in several places around the place.
I haven't quite come to clearing them all away.
I need to process it and slowly find the right time to 'put things away'.
It's an awfully long time, 12 years, to have that big black muzzle hanging about my shoulder,
reminding me of 5 o'clock suppers, coming home to the muffled "woof" from inside
the house if I had been somewhere sans dog.
Or if he was outside he would come bounding down to greet me.
So I will not 'get over it' but instead 'go through it'
I'll come out on the other side having known the truth of love and companionship.
(thanks for another session Rosie and Regina)
