She’d taught Daisy to “pray” – paws together, head down. It was ridiculous and beautiful and I laughed for the first time since the funeral.
Tom came out. “Heard about your brother. I’m sorry.”
“Madison made you something.”
She handed me a drawing. Me on my motorcycle with wings. Daisy with wings. Her mom and my brother in the clouds. At the bottom, in purple crayon: “Thank you for being our angel. Love Madison and Daisy.”
“It’s beautiful, kiddo.”
“Mr. Bear Angel? Will Daisy go to heaven?”
“Everything good goes to heaven.”
“Will you take care of her until I get there? When I’m very very old?”
“Promise.”
One year. Daisy made it one year. The vet couldn’t believe it. “Love,” Amy said. “It’s always love that makes the difference.”
“It’s time,” Tom told me. “I can see it. But I can’t…”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Madison will be devastated.”Continue reading…
