One Year Later

Today marks the one year anniversary of Kirby's passing. It doesn't seem quite possible that it's been a year. Yesterday's blip of the hawk sighting in the yard prompted all sorts of thoughts that it was a sign from Kirb. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just a curious hawk in the back yard. And maybe it was something else.

For many months, I expected to see Kirby at his usual hanging out spots: his outdoor couch; the field; the garden; under the spreading maple; right next to my chair. I guess we went so long without seeing him that I don't expect to see him there any longer. But I get fooled often when I pull up to some place in my truck, and I think I need to let him out of the back. Funny how memory works.

We've taken Kirby back to many places over this last year: White River snow park below Mt. Hood; the grave of the pioneer woman also below Mt. Hood; the huckleberry patch on the slope of the Cascades. We watched his gray matter swirl into the eddies and currents of the Columbia where he used to swim; under a maple near Wheatland Ferry landing where swam and walked.

Thanks again, Paula, for these beautiful pictures of him. Those were so thoughtful. 

I don't think I'll ever get used to him being gone, but I know the way he has traveled out into the universe is the way we all will some day. Man, I really miss him today.