Saturday, February 17, 2007


Driving home tonight, there were two deer standing on the frozen and snow-covered Minnesota River. It was dusk--the time they typically come down to the river to drink.

I wonder if they're surprised when they arrive and find that their river is ice. Do they walk out, one step after the other, hoping that it's just a little further?

At what point do they accept that it's for naught?

Do they turn around and go back where they came from?

Or do their hopeful steps lead them beyond the halfway point, to where it's easier to cross on over to the other side?

The winter solstice was December 21.
The spring equinox is March 21.

We're beyond halfway.

Thursday, February 8, 2007

all over

I just got home from picking up my cat's ashes and certificate of cremation at the vet's office.

I waited until I thought I could go in there without causing a scene. 4 weeks to the day, it's been.

I was fine in the car. I was fine going in. I was fine greeting the familiar staff, even with their condolences. I was fine when the vet who euthanized him came out to greet me. I was fine when she went to the cupboard to retrieve the little box.

The box was in a little brown bag with a ribbon and a card--a little "memorial" poem, which I haven't read yet. Because the minute I took the bag, felt its light weight, and looked down onto the box and saw Eliot printed on it, I realized it was all over. It was all over.

It's all over.