The Yellow Tennis Ball

The west wind continues to make the trees sway and bend. Her ears flapping against it as she runs, and jumps and dive at the leaves.

The backyard is finally drying up and the pups first major adventure checking every area out has begun.

The smells along the grass, the barking of dogs in the distance, she is wild and running like crazy, wondering what this new place is, is this all hers?

The old fence still stands, it has housed so many, as they play, jump, skip and chase the ball. As we begin to rake, there buried is one old yellow tennis ball; off coloured, shrivelled, but still ready to begin the game. The signal that at one time two young pups lived full lives here.

Mr. Jones gets emotional, a tear in his eye as he says “Look what I found.”

I begin to cry, that loss never seems to leave us, they were there for so long, for so many tears, laughs and howls in the house; one of them trying to out do the other, with Mr. Jones chiming in and egging the pack on. Each of them them pretending they are the pack leader, but the one with two legs commanded their attention.

We chase her, we laugh, we cry, we feel like something has been missing and as much as she performs her jaws show or her moments of Stitch, she is going to be one amazing dog.

At ten weeks, we have seen her intelligence at a regular occurrence, her look, the calculation, the understanding.

I mention to Mr. Jones how stressful the past few weeks have been with work, and I let him in, once more to my world, the one that holds me hostage as if I am jumping from the plane no parachute intact.  I wonder how many times can I jump and survive?

I need simple, laughter and less issues in my world, this may signal that I may have to evaluate my role and see what opportunities are waiting in the distance for me, as I begin to see how much more my life needs this.

The Angels have regularly been pointing things out to me, and I feel comforted knowing they are there, holding me up as I feel myself begin to crumble from the weight.

Spring is underway, melting is about complete and my goal is to meet the new challenges head on or under my umbrella, open as I feel myself closing up again, feeling like I am turning to stone.

I need to focus on the beautiful blooming flowers, Sunday drives and laying in bed with the windows open, the wind blowing, feeling the breeze.

Calling up my sister for the annual greenhouse hop, and laughs as we drive the countryside looking for the most perfect flowers that speak to us, that helps make it home.

Sticking our hands into the dirt, feeling in awe of the small miracle of growth, blooming and feeling how grounded it makes one.

Today, I choose to live for me, tomorrow may set me free, next week may be a dream and next year is always a reality. I will do my best to live in the moment and embrace the small details of life.

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever.” Alfred Lord Tennyson

Love always the ball throwing, dirt digging, Woman in Process

 

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