Hello, Bunny.
Today I've been having trouble not crying. Well, it's ok. I wouldn't be normal if I wasn't crying a lot still. You've left this enormous space, but the truth is, you filled so much of what was empty in me and healed so much of what was broken, that you really are almost as much presence as absence. Or as John O puts it, the sore well of absence has become a tender presence. you are here as well as not here. I ache for you. I miss you. And so it will be.
I found a little booklet I had made waaay back, at The Swamp, with some funny phrases and pictures of you, little stories and so on. Oh, the passing of time. Where did those days go, Bo? I hadn't recalled the Yabba Dabba song for ages. It started me crying, but not with any regret, just that I miss you, and your funny little Boo Radley ways. (One day I will explain this idiotic nickname and how it came to be your most enduring. But not today).
A habit of mine was to nickname you all these silly things by just putting an "a" on the end of whatever quality I felt you were exhibiting; hence, "eleganza" and "delicata" and the ever popular "determinata". My, my, but you could be a determined little being. I loved that about you and how I relate: we both might appear to be a little wifty but the backbone is stainless steel. You could get away with so much by being so sweet (and that may have been true of me, once upon a time, thought these days I've abandoned the tactic).
The pics here illustrate you at your determined best; while Jasmine and Luke headed contentedly back to the hosue after a walk, you, madame, had to bolt off into the woods for one last frenzied check-in. Even in snow several times too high for you, you'd pin those ears flat to the head and off you'd go. I love this picture because it really shows a part of you I cherish: determinata. Were you sweet, kind, and funny? Yes of course. Were you pliable, co-operative, and gentle? Without a doubt. But there was a core of some strange ferocity in there I admired, related to, and loved. Dammit all, I NEED to go off the trail this one last time.
Off you go, you little minx. Don't be too long. I'll be waiting.
Today I've been having trouble not crying. Well, it's ok. I wouldn't be normal if I wasn't crying a lot still. You've left this enormous space, but the truth is, you filled so much of what was empty in me and healed so much of what was broken, that you really are almost as much presence as absence. Or as John O puts it, the sore well of absence has become a tender presence. you are here as well as not here. I ache for you. I miss you. And so it will be.
I found a little booklet I had made waaay back, at The Swamp, with some funny phrases and pictures of you, little stories and so on. Oh, the passing of time. Where did those days go, Bo? I hadn't recalled the Yabba Dabba song for ages. It started me crying, but not with any regret, just that I miss you, and your funny little Boo Radley ways. (One day I will explain this idiotic nickname and how it came to be your most enduring. But not today).
A habit of mine was to nickname you all these silly things by just putting an "a" on the end of whatever quality I felt you were exhibiting; hence, "eleganza" and "delicata" and the ever popular "determinata". My, my, but you could be a determined little being. I loved that about you and how I relate: we both might appear to be a little wifty but the backbone is stainless steel. You could get away with so much by being so sweet (and that may have been true of me, once upon a time, thought these days I've abandoned the tactic).
The pics here illustrate you at your determined best; while Jasmine and Luke headed contentedly back to the hosue after a walk, you, madame, had to bolt off into the woods for one last frenzied check-in. Even in snow several times too high for you, you'd pin those ears flat to the head and off you'd go. I love this picture because it really shows a part of you I cherish: determinata. Were you sweet, kind, and funny? Yes of course. Were you pliable, co-operative, and gentle? Without a doubt. But there was a core of some strange ferocity in there I admired, related to, and loved. Dammit all, I NEED to go off the trail this one last time.
Off you go, you little minx. Don't be too long. I'll be waiting.
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