Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts,
Where no storm or night or pain can reach you.
…
Though your days here were brief,
Your spirit was live, awake, complete.
~John O’Donohue, On The Death Of The Beloved

Grief is a strange beast. Some moments I’m okay and others I’m far from it, and I can never predict which it’s going to be. This morning, I was watching old videos of Obi and Dexter together, thinking how weird it is that they are now both gone. There was a time when I couldn’t imagine a life without them in it, and yet here I am, living just that.

I catch myself, online and elsewhere, trying to be cheerful, to hold back my grief so that I don’t bum anybody out, but I can’t really help it — this is where I am right now. I’m sad and I’m angry, confused, so tender but also okay. I am trying to stay present, to be gentle with myself. As much as it sometimes hurts to be human, I am keeping my heart open, to both the wounding and the wonder.