I haven’t written here much. 2020, right? Fuck that year in particular. 2020 left us dog-less and brought the pandemic. I went through a rough medication change and adjustments to help with insomnia and a long fibromyalgia flare.
2020 was a dumpster fire for most of us. I planned to do a year in review, but that about sums it up.
I never wrote about losing Maggie. Now that Bender is with her I’ve realized that I didn’t process it, either.
Their water dish is still sitting empty in the kitchen. I catch sight of it and think I should fill it before the realization tumbles over the thought. Toys are still half-hidden under furniture; their food bins still stacked in the kitchen beside the box of leashes, harnesses, and outgrown collars.
We are on the waiting list for a Lab puppy. Obviously not a replacement, but the house, our hearts, and our days feel empty without a dog. Our turn should come in the spring.
I’m greeting my 42nd year and 2021 cautiously, but with some optimism. I’ve created two new sites I hope to launch soon; one for writing and the other about work. I want to write here for my small audience and to get the ridiculous thoughts out.
I hope 2021 allows us to be closer and kinder to each other. Let’s turn over the burnt out dumpster and plant a garden over the ashes.