showers

Many of my favorite stories growing up had me convinced that nature mourned with you. My heart felt a little extra shattered yesterday because of the beaming sun and clear skies. 

My mom and I had lunch, during which she told me that our beloved dog had to be put down. He was in a lot of pain, so I get that. But it just hurts, especially because only my dad was able to say goodbye. We've had Tucker since elementary school, when he was a Thanksgiving surprise for John and I. It's hard to imagine our house without him.

I had two more classes after she told me. I felt like I couldn't speak for fear of crying. I'm so lucky that right after I heard the news, I turned around and there was Kitty. Getting a hug from my best friend squeezed out the first tears, but it was also exactly what I needed. When I did finally get back to my room, my roommates were all some kind of wonderful. I honestly can't thank them enough for sitting with me and rubbing my back, even as I was sobbing and trying to explain myself at the same time.

Mother Nature somewhat made up for her callousness with a torrent of tears today. Rain streaked down my windows as I read my mom's tribute to my puppy:

Tucker

has chased his last squirrel,

tunneled in his last snow bank,

has had his last mid-day catch with the postal carrier,

shared his last hug with his “besties”, Cole and Logan,

stolen his last dinner napkin from your lap,

enjoyed his last night by the fire in New Hampshire,

has taken his victory lap through the Blue Hills,

has eaten his last Hosta,

and for the first time-- has broken our hearts

Rest in peace, baby