Yesterday, as I had finished the grocery shopping for the week to come, it really hit home how much I missed Cecile. All those moments, which with their significance had lodged into memory. Good and bad…although Cecile always had a tendency of turning the latter into the former. Dogs have that rare gift I suppose – being man’s best friend. They have this sixth sense of feeling grief in their human companions, and do their utmost to erase it. Whether with wet kisses or party tricks. Yes I remembered it all, but this time around there was no Cecile to obliterate my sorrows. I distracted myself with a film on the Nelson Mandela trial where (oddly enough) I found some relief, until midnight struck and the only option left was to put the day to an end with the hope that the one in store would scatter the clouds. Luckily it has….somewhat.
“It’s taken 2 years ago to the day, when Cecile was still part of the family. It was a time of great change and upheaval and if I think about it, the picture was taken in an act of defiance. To the outside world, but more so to myself. I am ok. We are fine. We will survive.”