We [almost] had to force ourselves to celebrate our 20th Anniversary two days after Simba passed. Having made one of the hardest decisions of our lives on Tuesday, by Thursday neither of us felt like making decisions. So the Jeep just automatically steered us to Hillstone for sushi
and comfort fries.
As we do, we did some retail therapy at IKEA on Saturday and the rest of the day was spent assembling our new entertainment center. (Or rather I watched; The Mister assembled.)
While he did that, I experimented making a pizza we could eat with our new food restrictions. We discovered our restrictions aren't as restricting as we thought.
I had forgotten about my little garden, so did some harvesting this morning.
With which I made chunky guacamole
and peach, mango, tomato, cucumber, cilantro, onion, jalapeno, garlic salsa.
And as I was cleaning up the kitchen I heard the familiar jingle, jangle, jingle of our girl's tags on her collar. Startled, I spun around fully expecting to see her. Of course she wasn't there. But it sent me into a funk. Life goes on, but not for her.
We have felt so many arms around us this week. A multitude of kind and comforting and loving words have come our way.
My son and his wife sent this beautiful plant with a lovely note.
Our Vet Clinic sent a card telling us a tree was being donated in Simba's name in Superior National Forest in Duluth, Minnesota.
Family and friends are making donations to animal shelters and rescues in Simba's name and we will do the same.
It's all so loving and warm and wonderful.
But when I wake at 2 am and feel her presence right next to me on the bed where she slept... I lose it all over again.