Somehow, I can’t visualize you in panic mode. I can, however, imagine you feeling a bit adrift without the anchor that you have in Ken, yet I don’t equate that with tearing out your hair or trashing the innards of your home.
Here’s hoping you can acknowledge the place Ken has in your daily life and sense of well-being and honor that for what it is: a blessing.
You know, when I saw that picture, I totally felt that I got it. I wonder if everyone who sees it will feel that connection – but to something completely their own.
When I was a teenager, we had a boxer-dog (named “Cookie” – she came to us with that name) and she would actually do this: if we were inside, she had to be inside. If we were outside, she had to be outside. She needed to be where we were. She went through screen windows and glass doors. All was not right with her unless she was not alone. Seeing that picture reminded me of Cookie. She had been badly treated before she came to us, and she needed kindness so much.
Because I have lived alone for so long, I no longer miss having any certain person in the house with me. In my work life, I am with others all day, and coming home to silence is often a relief. Yet now that I am stuck at home with my broken ankle, I am starting to feel “alone” and I remind myself that I am surrounded with love and caring – but I need to reach out to it.
Is this all too philosophical? This is **your** blog after all, not mine.
And you’re right, it is still funny!
p.s. I’m stealing that picture and sending it to all my sisters and my dad. They will surely laugh and remember.
I kinda feel this way today.
Somehow, I can’t visualize you in panic mode. I can, however, imagine you feeling a bit adrift without the anchor that you have in Ken, yet I don’t equate that with tearing out your hair or trashing the innards of your home.
Here’s hoping you can acknowledge the place Ken has in your daily life and sense of well-being and honor that for what it is: a blessing.
Okay, so maybe panic isn’t the right word. But this is still funny.
You know, when I saw that picture, I totally felt that I got it. I wonder if everyone who sees it will feel that connection – but to something completely their own.
When I was a teenager, we had a boxer-dog (named “Cookie” – she came to us with that name) and she would actually do this: if we were inside, she had to be inside. If we were outside, she had to be outside. She needed to be where we were. She went through screen windows and glass doors. All was not right with her unless she was not alone. Seeing that picture reminded me of Cookie. She had been badly treated before she came to us, and she needed kindness so much.
Because I have lived alone for so long, I no longer miss having any certain person in the house with me. In my work life, I am with others all day, and coming home to silence is often a relief. Yet now that I am stuck at home with my broken ankle, I am starting to feel “alone” and I remind myself that I am surrounded with love and caring – but I need to reach out to it.
Is this all too philosophical? This is **your** blog after all, not mine.
And you’re right, it is still funny!
p.s. I’m stealing that picture and sending it to all my sisters and my dad. They will surely laugh and remember.
I moved this site, just so we can share comments Laura. Wax away! Yes, any change in “routine” stirs things up. Heal well and heal fast.
I WILL be coming home. Wish I knew when.
XXOO
Ken
I know you’ll come home Ken, you ALWAYS come home. I love you.