My daughter's best friend doggy pal, Cooper, fell ill and quickly deteriorated and died two days ago. Just died. Damn damn cancer. It's so traumatic. Death. I hate it. It leaves me feeling sick and sad, lonely and empty feeling. Sad for me. Hurting for my daughter. For the loss of a beautiful faithful loyal furry friend of 11 years. Are we grateful we had him? Of course. Was he loved? Immensely. Could our love heal him? No.
This isn't the Me that used to have all kinds of faith and trust in God.
Ah... but this day, today, always has much good in it. The hot steamy humid days we have been experiencing have ceased. At least for now. It feels like fall and that proverbial "change is in the air" has arrived. And it should be celebrated!
I had a doctor's appointment today, my yearly exam, and I was ten pounds lighter in weight than I was at my last exam in June! I've been trying. Really trying. That should be celebrated!
Norman ran out of the yard yesterday after the neighbors' kids left my back gate open. He was nowhere to be seen. I called for him and he eventually came running from around the block having traveled quite a distance down the street and around the corner. Good dog Norman. You came when I called you! That should be celebrated!
There are so many things I could celebrate even though my little family feels kind of battered and bruised. Let's face it, the whole world seems battered and bruised to me.
I do still have my faith and trust in God though. It's definitely small as a mustard seed. But God says that's enough.
And that should be celebrated too.