Welp, at the one week mark, I’m slowly starting to adjust to and accept my new normal.
I’m slowly starting to expect her less when I open the door. I’m slowly starting to leave gates open and no longer blocking rooms off that I want to keep her out of. I’m slowly remembering I don’t need to open the back door when I get out of the shower each morning and that I don’t need to stop by the cupboard before I leave to work and that I don’t need to rush home after work to let her out.
Sometimes it happens automatically—as a programmed response from years of repetition.
And I know that before long, new programmed responses will take their place and these old habits will fade alongside her memory. And I’m learning to be okay with that.
What I’m choosing to deliberately keep, however, are the evening walks. This is the one habit that she helped me adopt that I feel would properly honor her memory if I kept. And each night, after I get home from work, I follow the same route we used to follow and try to carry her legacy with me. One that doesn’t rush. One that stops and smells the roses (or the pee in her case). One that is always grateful to be out… walking… experiencing… being.
P.s. I tagged all of the 1-minute pieces I’ve written that were inspired by Stella over the years. You can read the collection here.