Saturday, February 5, 2011

Rest in Peace, Gretzky sconey only the only Gretzky scone.

I sit here in the basement, and can't stop crying. First Nickie, now Gretzky. It's like a whole chapter of my life is not only closed, but slammed, in my face. And the hurt is cutting deep.

Gretzky was our beloved dog. A Siberian Huskey/Purebred German Shepard mix, whom we loved for many years in our family. He symbolized to me the days when we had our big double-lot at our parent's Lynden home, and living in Canada.

Nickie passed im 2009, and was about 17. Gretzky would have been about 15 years old. He was so loving, an huge, and I remember the time I drew eyebrows on him, and my brother got so mad.

I would like to write more, and I will later. I am not looking forward to giving the news to my Mum.
I love you both, puppies. And I know all dogs go to heaven.

Thank you to the Boon family, who took excellent care of him in his remaining years.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Mama I got dem ol' Kozmic, quantum-locked, tangled mangled blues, with a dash of happiness on the side

Wow. Does it ever get old....entering Chupa's arms?
No, I don't think so. I slip  in and find solace and love, laughter, annoyance, music, lust, and true appreciation and sincerity.

Yeah, we've had problems. But true pick-me-up-put-me-down-do-it-again love never needs to explain itself, it's origins, it's route or destination. No one else that I trust will lie there all night and tell me I am beautiful and that I just need to be loved, and other's are slacking, so he's gonna do it for them.

I sit and cry so hard I can't breathe, repeating the names of my children. Feeling in my mind how their little skinny solid torso feels when being squeezed into a hug. Mike is there to peel off the faux eyelashes, wipe my tears, give me a hug all my own and put me to bed. Soon mon' cheries, Mama will be there soon. Better than ever, and we'll be the only ones to believe and no this. The rest of the world will try to eat up our positivity, but we are the Vikings girls, we have broad shoulders and noses for a reason. More strength, more to cry on, the better to breathe in more oxygen to attack thy enemies.

As Janet Fitch once wrote; "We are the Vikings. We recieved our coloring from Norsemen. Hairy savages who hacked their Gods to pieces and hung the flesh from trees. We are the ones who sacked Rome. Fear only feeble old age, and death in bed, and don't forget who you are.

I will elbaborate more on this later.

P.S. Britt, I would only wish to one day to be invited to drink tea with you. Or just sit on your porch.