One Year Later

It’s morning. I’m quietly sipping coffee, reading a novel that features an ensemble of Victorian era ghosts who hover helplessly perplexed, lovingly hoping the protagonist solves a mystery that left her broken, and from which they seek ephemeral redemption and release.

Prompted by the passage describing a dissembled old long clock, I pause to listen to the tick-tock of my grandmother’s cuckoo clock.

A minute’s reverie back and forth in time, memory and grief, now broken by the call of wild geese just returned, a harbinger of spring.

I remember today is the anniversary of my dear dog’s passing.

I remember I don’t have to walk a hundred miles on my knees to know my place in the family of things.  (Thank you, Mary Oliver.)

Prairie Bound Peggy

            Prairie Bound Peggy at 15 years

9 thoughts on “One Year Later

  1. Oh my! I’ve been just realizing, with shock, that it’s just a year since a life changing event of my own – and hadnt yet formulated the term “reverie” as apt! And remembering now that I had no bandwidth to take in your journey of transition with Peggy. Hugs and appreciation for the richness of memories when the acute pain has eased.

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