Hard days

I try to be honest with whoever reads this and live isn't always full harvests and pretty pictures and memories. Somedays, the memories are good but make you miss the one they are about. This is so very true today. Out of nowhere last night, Pooka asked me to read to her the book "The Next Place." It is a book we got for her when her Great Grandmother died. Then she cuddled up to me and told me she missed her.

I would love to say, I had some wonderful way to make her feel better, but I didn't. Truth is, I miss her too and my being home has reminded me of that. It use to be days like today, Pooka and I would have taken her to run errands, or gone over to visit her and have me sneak chores in. I mean, Pooka spent probably the first 5 years of her life helping to take care of her, calling her so she didn't get lonely, and making sure Great Grandma had her cane.

I woke up this morning missing her as well. The morning phone calls just to chat and give her someone to talk to, and all the little things that drove me crazy when she was alive. That woman taught me patience if nothing else. I went outside this morning to water the new rosebush. We had finally put her sign up, a sign I will be keeping for us, but out of nowhere, we had roses. Lots of roses. Maybe, just maybe someone knows we are thinking of her, or maybe the rosebush is happy, but it put a great smile on Pooka's face, which was something she needed. It was also a lovely color of yellow that I know she would love.

Roses on a rough day