The day Buffy died, Tom brought home two dozen long-stem roses. Took me a few days to take a picture of them, and a week longer to get them up, but wanted to share them with you. Buffy was like this. Beautiful, and loving, and just-what-I-needed.
In the eight days since Buffy left us, Lucky has started to do the things for me that Buffy used to: sitting quietly at my side (or feet) when I am working, climbing into my lap when I need comfort, drawing me out of my shell when I need to move. Here he is, waiting for me to finish writing a paper…
Not that we needed a reminder, but the rest of life continues as well. Here is the younger stidkid, now tall enough to touch the ceiling (when he stands on the arm of the sofa, anyway).
