I looked out at the lake and the mountains this beautiful Sunday morning and thought 'great day for a long walkabout'. But I can't muster up the enthusiasm without the girl. I never realized what she gave to me by sharing our lives together. I know, she was just being a dog, but there was so much more to it than that, for both of us. Walks and hikes would happen on a whim and she never had a moment's hesitation. No prior arrangements needed to be made...no times to be set...no confirmations...just a 'let's go!'. I still sometimes forget for a split second that she is gone and then there is that now familiar heart-hurt. Can't let that go because it is all that I have left of her and it is like a good friend now. I know that as long as I feel that, she is still my best girl.
What is it about some images of ourselves that really please us? So many times I see a photo of myself and I am astounded by how unlike 'me' I look. But this picture I think conveys a lot of what is going on with me these days. My snide attitude (note the puss on that face) is clearly evident, as is what can only be described as my devil-may-care style. What has happened is a delightful and lovely descent into a casual and utilitarian sense of fashion. Rubber boots not only for rainy days, baggy long-shorts for bending and tugging, bandana for keeping the bangs at bay, sunglasses just because I always, as in always, wear my sunglasses and of course, a little lipstick because as every girl knows, a little lipstick goes a long way.
I suppose that the best thing to do here is to try to speak from the heart. I'm thinking about how the ones we love come to occupy a room within us. How we try to keep them safe and warm within that room and how we sometimes come together and express our love ever so indirectly. We skirt around the issue and we play and tease eachother and every once in a while we look into someone's eyes and we see it. Do they see it in ours? I have to think so.
This is my friend, Guy, and I pronounce his name the french way. I know that he loves me because he never lets on how much that irritates him. And he knows that I love him, because I see it in his eyes.
There is a lot of time on a road trip to think especially when one is the passenger. Driving into northern British Columbia via the rolling countryside and the curly-q highways brings on a calm and nostalgic state of being. Even the loaded logging trucks have a certain rhythm & rhyme when they rumble past. But one thing is pretty clear...a road trip without a dog is hardly a road trip in the true sense of the term. I keep looking in the back and expecting to see the girl and then I remember. For a moment there is the always-mine sadness, then I shift and I see all the things we enjoyed. All the things we still enjoy. Together. Now. This moment.