Saw an aquaintence this weekend. She runs right up to me and says "LIZ! I'M SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!" I had writted to my beagle mailing list about a bittersweet moment when I'd brought up some towels that Alice had used to lay on. I hadn't washed them so they must've smelled like her to the dogs. Zeus wouldn't stop sniffing them, turning them over as if he was looking for her, Rainie lay on my lap crying in a way I'd never heard her and Gus actually dropped his toy to stand with me as I cried. It was a sweet moment, filled with sadness and good memories for all of us, so I told my beagle friends. I guess this woman interpreted it as more than it was, specifically, a license to make a fuss when it's not necessary.

My friend Dave leaned over and said I should tell her not to worry, that Alice was a true love and should this aquaintence die, I'd only mourn for her for a day. Alice is worth the effort (good thing because I have no choice). Yes, at times I'm better. I even spoke of her the other day without tearing up or pausing so I didn't. But other times, when I least expect it, her name floats into my head and with it, a wall of grief. I may heal one day (for the most part) but I'll never forget. I think that's what love is.