dear today,
It's Taco's birthday. It's what I call his birthday. The day we picked him up to bring him home. Others call it their "gotcha day."
With anniversaries like this it make s me realize that someone, somewhere, everyday, is probably feeling as I do right now. Absent, bereft and broken.
It reminds me to work on my compassion skills when I may encounter a person who seems crabby or less than lovely.
It could just be that they are feeling a horrible ache where before it was filled with the comfortable knowledge of being someone's everything.
How can 6 years feel like so much and so little at the same time?
It's Taco's birthday. It's what I call his birthday. The day we picked him up to bring him home. Others call it their "gotcha day."
With anniversaries like this it make s me realize that someone, somewhere, everyday, is probably feeling as I do right now. Absent, bereft and broken.
It reminds me to work on my compassion skills when I may encounter a person who seems crabby or less than lovely.
It could just be that they are feeling a horrible ache where before it was filled with the comfortable knowledge of being someone's everything.
How can 6 years feel like so much and so little at the same time?
No comments:
Post a Comment