August 18, 2013

White Dog sighed softly in my ear about halfway through the day. Everyone was having an "Easy Sunday" of noshing and napping. Steve (hopefully) fixed my printer problem of too many sheets getting pulled through the feed. Michael was busily putting together a grocery list.

"Seems so normal," she breathed. "Like things used to be."

"Sweet One," I held her face. "It is normal. Everyone is at peace because we are getting past the shock and all understand that Quinn had to leave his body behind. None of us would trade having him with us still at the price of his pain and torment. His spirit is still with us, gentle and peaceful as always. Right now it seems like the White Dog Army is wrapped in that comfort.

"More tears will come as different moments remind us of what is no more...that is part of the recovery. But we will also be reminded of special times and memories that make us smile and whisper to heaven, 'Remember that, Quinn?'

"Do not feel guilty or stop yourself from laughing or being happy or loving life. Quinn's charge to celebrate life was meant for all of us not just dad."

"Do you think Quinn would mind, then, if I snuggled with the green stuffy The Five Sibes sent him?" "Little White Dog of My Heart, I am absolutely certain Quinn would be thrilled to see you enjoying the loving gift from friends." "Really? It wouldn't be like ghoulish?" "Open your heart, you can feel the answer for yourself."

White Dog sat silent with her head on her paws then hopped down and went to the stuffy. She sniffed it, then gracefully carried it to the couch where she curled up and closed her eyes. As I looked around the room at the napping pups and Steve my heart was gladdened by the Sunday normalness that reigned.