what has started all the tears again, as if they had ever stopped.
When I find myself in a quiet, calm place, then the tears start to flow. It doesn’t matter if I’m at work, at the gym, or at home.
[Let me interject here readers, I write to keep me sane. I write so I don’t lose touch with reality. I write because that is who I am and have always been, a writer. I have more journals than there are books of the Bible. Each hill I’ve climbed has a journal. Each valley I’ve rested in has a journal. Therefore, don’t let my words give reason to worry. I’ve just found another outlet for my words.]
Now where was I? Oh, it doesn’t matter where I was, it only matters where I’m going. I’m marching onward. I will always look back for my Sam, but know he can only be found going forward. It’s the flesh. My heart yearns for him and yet I know I can not have him back in this life.
If you find this heavy, my paper journal about him would scare you! Nevertheless, I plug away everyday, go home and write when the burden becomes to heavy to carry alone. Just the thought that someone else has read and understands my loss makes all the writing worth it.
I do not understand how parents who lose children find the strength to go on. I do not understand how they don’t cry their eyes out every night. I don’t understand because some days are harder than others, and my Sam was my best friend, the most protective Chihuahua ever to live. He protected me until the day the vet eased his pain, forever.
Great love comes in all shapes, sizes, and life, my great love was Samson….
You are my sunshine,