I am having a difficult time with time. Everyone says that time heals all wounds. Lies. Time is nothing more than a unit of measurement from event "a" to event "b". Dunkin' would be 8 in a couple of days and the time (whether it is a day, an hour, or one month) that has past since his death has done nothing to sooth me. I do not admit this to several people and the truth is, I cry daily and nightly. I was told recently that my eyes betray my emotions. He said that even when I am happy, my eyes always look sad. Seems to me like the windows to my soul are quite transparent.
I met someone yesterday that I knew I would meet one day. I met the man who designed the Macy's Balloons. I always pictured a Dunkin' the Service Dog Macy's Day balloon and I said to him, "It's great to finally meet you. You will design the Dunkin' balloon someday." We smiled and will jam again next week. Dunkin' would have loved last night. The boy adored live music and a bohemian lifestyle... anything that made his momma happy and calm.
When I cry I do it to myself. I can stop it, if anyone can. It's mighty hard to do. I'm in this alone and alone is new to me. Or, rather... without Dunkin'... that's what is new to me. I am doing my best and that's about all I can do.
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