Dear Gridge,
I miss you.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
The pain of not being able to see you in the flesh, not being able to smell your sweet, puppy aroma that you never seemed to outgrow is just…too much.
Sometimes I think I smell you and I linger wherever I’m sitting/standing/laying in hopes the fragrance will last…but it doesn’t.
Sometimes…..when I hear a distant bark…it sounds like it could be you….but it’s not.
Sometimes….I catch myself saying “come on babies” or “watch out guys” when Kea accidentally gets in my way.
Every month, when the evidence arrives that I am still not going to be a mother, I fall to the floor, hopeless, and for a split second I believe you’ll be there to comfort me as you always did….but you’re not there. Not anymore.
Sometimes…I think I’ll die because the one thing I want and need most in the world is to have you in my arms and to rub my face against your perfect cheeks.
I don’t know how to fill this void in my heart.
I can’t stop thinking about the day you died.
I need your hugs.
I need your close-mouthed kisses.
I need your farts to make me laugh!
I need your face. Nothing made me smile quite like your face.
I need you Gridge.