I choose to risk my significance;
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit. (DK)
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
I sat reading in a comfy chair in the sunlight and through the wall I could hear my husband talking to our 13-year old dog, Angel, in the next room. I closed my book and listened. His voice was muffled and low and I could not make out the words, but I didn't need to. He was talking to her affectionately as he always does ... tenderly, with the hum of love in his sentences. He was having quite a long and and happy conversation with her, and then I heard her answer with the thump, thump, thump of her tail as it whacked the wall.
They love each other so much. I notice that the older Angel gets, the more devoted my husband is to her, the more connected, and the harder it will be to let her go. We know we won't have her much longer ... this wonderful old, deaf dog. Our Angel Baby.