One Year

A year ago, I had just put down a beloved dog. My heart had a hole in that had Gunther's name on it. That left me with one dog. That hadn't happened oh since 1999, give or take. I mean really? One dog is just never enough. One dog is just too quiet for my taste. So, in early February I added a new one to the fold. It was an obvious choice. Welcome to the good life Maxx. Maxx was in a foster home in TX. He was a sunbelt boy destined for life in the Midwest.

A year ago, two of my three kiddos lived in the same vicinity. Who knew life would present one with his dream job. He packed bags and moved within weeks. Exactly what a parent wants for their child, even when they prefer having them closer. We celebrate their opportunities and adventures. Even as we weep if life takes them further away from us

A year ago, I struggled with living a quiet solitary life. A year later, it's a norm that is more comfortable. My little world is cozy, safe and lovely. Blessed even. Okay, I'd like more hugs, I miss being someone's partner and more laughter couldn't hurt either. But I'm finding comfort in being present in the present. That's a good thing. 

I don't know what your year ago looked like. Or if the in between was gentle and kind, or grueling and hard. Perhaps some of both. I do know it's the little things that matter. Someone who checks on you daily, sometimes several times daily, or periodically just to make sure you're okay. It's simple pleasures that warm your heart. It's friends, new and old, including you in their life. It's a furry friend or two, or three. It's a Friday night tequila shot to celebrate getting through another week. Even if it's a one-person celebration. It's volunteering in a field you are passionate about. See also, it's better to give than to receive. For in giving, we do receive. It's working towards slowing down enough to be comfortable, just comfortable. It's the belief that we deserve good things, and the faith to know they are coming. It's trusting we are exactly where we are supposed to be. It's the ability to say my mental health matters and yours does to. It is the ability to be self-compassionate. 

So, wherever you are this year, know that you've grown since last year. Also know, you're worth it (whatever it may be), that if one dog is good, two can be better. You have value. You are not alone. You matter. Stick with me, and we'll journey life together. One step at a time. one day at a time, one year at a time.