Weaving Our Way through Loss
Lighting a candle for Rufus and watching the flame dance and flicker.
A huge cold flatness grips at the soul and
this morning we had to escape the dead quiet of a house once filled with the daily habits and noises of an 8lb furry little bundle.
It was a comforting drive, the sun sparkled on the snow, the fields and pine trees. Gardens with snow animals made us smile. I tried to capture an image of a squirrel as it raced up the telephone pole.
Death is not extinguishing the light
it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come