Don't Read This Dad

Whenever I have something sad to talk about, Dad doesn't want to read my posts. He needs to be warned. He is very tender to the thought of a suffering of, or the loss of a friend. He loves it when I am silly, or sarcastic, or devilish. I enjoy that as well. But sometimes, we have to talk about the sadness, the tragedy.

I too am tender. Much as I hate to admit it. But my friends all know the many layers of the Wilma. I couldn't not speak of the loss of our dear Lilo.

As many of you have noted, it is too much. Too many of our beloved friends have been leaving for the bridge. It is so hard to bear. I truly have no words. I had to search for some comfort, some words to help us all cope and understand. So I asked Google. There are many sentiments out there that address our human's dilemma. For it is them who make the commitment to us. To love us, and care for us, even though they know that some day they will suffer such pain and grief when we have to leave. So thank you Moms and Dads. Thank you for making the sacrifice to give us the great lives that you do. I like to think we make it worth while. For as much as we like to give you the business, there is no one who will ever love you the way we do.

For Lilo and Jess,

"We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached.

Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way.

We cherish memory as the only certain immortality,

never fully understanding the necessary plan."

Irving Townsend.

Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.

John Galsworthy

Looking back on the memory of the dance we shared, beneath the stars above.

For a moment all the world was right, how was I to know that you'd ever say goodbye?

And now I'm glad I didn't know the way it all would end, the way it all would go.

Our lives are better left to chance, I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance.

The Dance - (Garth Brooks)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad