I’m sure you’ve realized, if you have read my books and blogs, that Claire would qualify as an emotional support animal under any legal definition of that concept.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emotional_support_animal
Claire has always been a giver, since the moment I first met her doing my rounds in 2017. When you talk with her, she keeps her large brown eyes trained on you, mesmerizing you with these beautiful, long lashes, that acknowledge with a slow and deliberate flutter, that she is listening, no matter how selfish or boring your rants may seem. My grandmother, Posie, had that same quality. My sister, Veronica, when you can catch her for a moment in her very busy life being all things to all members of the Clan, also shares that skillset.
Anyone who has had the pleasure of visiting Casa Claire and hugging this large but gentle matriarch knows how much that physical contact with her quiets your soul.
I’m blessed by it on a daily basis. And it always me who needs that hug or kiss.
And while Claire spends most of her day and night, chaperoning her charge, Honey, around Casa Claire, worldhttps://thewisenovelist.com/honey-claire/, and otherwise inspiring me and ensuring that all is right with the world, there are those times when she wanders off to one particular spot out back, alone, and communes with the love of her life, Mr. Rogers.
I could feel Mr. Rogers standing there before Claire, nose to nose, letting her know, like all love ones that cross the veil, that he’s still there for her, just like she has been there for everyone else.
And as poignant and painful it is for me to see her during these moments, I know I must leave her to it, and then give her an extended hug, when she comes by the back door.
As Michael Stipe of REM explains very nicely, everybody hurts, sometimes.
So, if you happen to see someone hurting, even if it’s a complete stranger, sometimes the only thing you can do is lean in and give them that two handed hug, and let them know that no matter how deep their sorrow or pain, they are not alone. You’ll be surprised by the unexpected benefit that it will make you feel a little better too.
Well here were are again at Friday’s Handmaid, Thursday.
If there is ever a day during the week that acts like hug, it’s Thursday.
It lets you know that no matter how the week may have gone, it’s about to get better with Friday’s arrival.
So, you fine, five readers, lean in and embrace the day.
I’m going to go steal a few kitty cuddles, and then do my rounds.
And I know that when I see Claire in a few minutes, I’m going to steal a hug, just because . . . .
But no matter what else we get up to, let us make today a great one.
And speaking of losses, a special shout out to my nephew Brian Evans, who recently lost his adorable companion, Charlie the dachshund, who I have babysat in the past. I’m sure all of the Clan animals were waiting for him upon his arrival in heaven.
Vaya con dios, Charlie.
3 Responses
great blog today……… insightful.
Beautiful and heartfelt ❤️
Years ago, I had two parakeets. One of them passed away, and I buried him in the yard. When I got back, I opened the cage for the other one (they were always out of the cage), and she flew panicky around the room first, and then she flew against the window, right about where I buried her friend. Fortunately, she was alright, but it was heartbreaking to see. She knew… 🦜