I made it. I’m actually sitting here at my new, old desk feeling rather good. It’s over. There’s something to be said for the end of hysterical anticipation.
When I left for the last time on Saturday, I stood for a moment in the doorway. I said a prayer of thanks for the comfort those old, broken-down walls gave me for so many years.
I swear I heard them sigh.
Before me and my rolling suitcase went down those stairs for the last time, I put Tallulah, the bishon’s, key beneath her door with a note of gratitude. She came into my life on the heels of my heartbreak over Carmela, and truly, saw me through.
She and her parents will also be moving out, to Connecticut, March 1st. Reminds me that some people, four-legged or otherwise, are not meant to be in your life for very long.
Tallulah was a furry comet loving me till I could once again love myself always feeling somehow I let my beloved basset hound down.
Of course now we know that was a myth, hearing how happy she is. But we’re hard on ourselves, especially when we’re already hurting. Why is that? One of life’s mysteries to be sure.
I want to thank everyone who gave me such love and support during this life-changing event. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, and because of you and your gentle vigilance, never once felt alone.
Who said mazel tov?