Another year has passed, seven now in all, since I said goodbye to my boy.  I’m always surprised how I’ve managed to carry on, and alternately, by the days that I’m still stopped in my tracks and reduced to tears.  In spite of the loss, I often find ways he’s still with me.


In referring to Buddy as, “my true North,” it was in reference to how he kept me on track, or how he could help me correct course when I did stray.  Even though I no longer go to the barn every day, or consider his needs before my own, the lessons he taught me are still fresh.  Making good choices, thinking about how my choices will affect others, and the long-term ramifications.  The way I care for our dogs, before I take care of myself.  Using the great power I have within myself for as much good as possible, whenever possible, even on the hard days, and even when I don’t really feel like it.


Saying goodbye is never as difficult as living with goodbye, but it can be done.  I do hope, that when he looks down to find me, he’s proud of his mama, I’m still so proud to be his.


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