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Teaching Aurelia about the finer things in life, like Sunday morning porch hangs. https://instagr.am/p/CEg7QlnjFnzbche1qJign__qDNbCKQju90I7Zw0/
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Cheeky 馃挍 https://instagr.am/p/CEM8Cifj1ttZS-f8uHLR-moNTFvzxQBUPiRR_s0/
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First album cover https://instagr.am/p/CD9HvCBjapw1dZXSNHGlcwK38GIOQEtoSvygRs0/
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I've got sunshine on a cloudy day 馃挍 https://instagr.am/p/CD1vedODQqFNw0ifOfqNNBfvLepS7T-j9RgY080/
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She may be Mauricio鈥檚 mini, but she is also definitely my daughter 馃挄 https://instagr.am/p/CDrvUQTjvr8RSUYSx4jqRmlhxUo6u8LPocx2Rw0/
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Don't want you thinking I'm unhappy What is closer to the truth Is that if I lived till I was a hundred and two I just don't think I'll ever get over you 鈾ワ笍 https://instagr.am/p/CDnE780j8nWP3eJ_Zj7tSI4kHkphSECK7B1aYM0/
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And a happy casual Friday to you! https://instagr.am/p/CDmSQ7BDhfGkSlbwvrXzGaYfs9yclIRykQr9Cc0/
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Normally I鈥檇 be insulted if my lunch date fell asleep but this one鈥檚 cute enough to get away with just about anything 馃グ https://instagr.am/p/CDhQsMaDqxCrYcTHwCQIbqm_gNgj6A8xdn3iTM0/
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One of the hardest things about losing Canelo has been trying to decide whether I will be more sad to see his things around the house or to not see them. Today I decided to empty his treat jars. I cried hard and remembered how he used to scratch at the base of the cabinet where they were stored until we would give in. After he got sick, it was hard to find low sodium treats that he liked, and once I finally did, I never said no when he asked, even when he wouldn鈥檛 let up until he was given so many I lost count. He always took them from my hand and bounded off like he was afraid I鈥檇 change my mind. I had just refilled one of the bowls a few days before he died with his favorites. Just like I鈥檇 refilled all of his prescriptions a couple weeks before, afraid that we wouldn鈥檛 have easy access to them during the pandemic. I need to figure out who to give them to, whether it鈥檚 a shelter or a person with the same unfortunate circumstances. When we returned from dropping his body off at the emergency clinic to have him cremated the night that he died, I immediately took every single item that had anything even remotely to do with his heart disease and angrily tossed it all into a box. It鈥檚 still sitting downstairs, and I feel guilty thinking about how much it could help someone who is either just entering the dizzying and overwhelming fight to help their pup, or is having trouble affording the medication.
But the rest of his things have sat pretty much where he left them and I still can鈥檛 bear the thought of putting them or giving them away. I decided I鈥檇 rather eventually bring another dog home and let them use all of it than any alternative. I鈥檓 so grateful that my minimalist husband hasn鈥檛 said a word about wanting to do anything else. I hope he feels the same as I do. I talk about Canelo often, and still cry every day, and sometimes I feel like I shouldn鈥檛 do that. Like I should be more quiet in my grief and find ways to remember him alone. But one of the most difficult transitions has been going from Canelo being a daily topic of conversation and pretty much the center of attention for a chunk of each day to a passing remark or trying to get a memory out despite a lump in my throat. I wonder if time will change the frequency with which I feel the need to keep him alive via conversation. Sometimes I feel like there is something wrong with me, but most of the time I don鈥檛 even really care if there is. I love him. I miss him. I will wish he were here every time he crosses my mind for the rest of my life. Time helps with sadness and pain, but it doesn鈥檛 diminish love. If anything, it reaffirms it. He may no longer be a living member of our family, but he will always be a loved one.
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Isn鈥檛 it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me 馃挅 https://instagr.am/p/CDW-2PADhzBc6LjJ3cx5Nu3rcmvRvZvY8ViWHc0/
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鈾ワ笍 #wordstoliveby #maryoliver https://instagr.am/p/CDIdrgpj00GpnaHReQNJKCNTkYdoDPZ3d8fpOQ0/
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Sunday funday 馃挍 https://instagr.am/p/CC14U9GjBxUb_lvK3dCFABJ26KKT67bmHQSJyA0/
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I鈥檝e always considered a baby falling asleep on you to be one of the best feelings in the world. But when it鈥檚 your own baby...馃挊 https://instagr.am/p/CCy1UWiDriVL15W7n6BnHBowGhmlBkQMThENlY0/
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Benjamin, Who Came From 鈥疻ho Knows Where
By Mary Oliver
What shall I do?
When I pick up the broom
he leaves the room.
When I fuss with kindling he
runs for the yard.
Then he鈥檚 back, and we
hug for a long time.
In his low-to-the-ground chest
I can hear his heart slowing down.
Then I rub his shoulders and
kiss his feet
and fondle his long hound ears.
Benny, I say,
don鈥檛 worry. I also know the way
the old life haunts the new.
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Look who鈥檚 already taking after her Auntie @deebotvision鈥檚 flair for the dramatic 馃挍 https://instagr.am/p/CCbjY8hjm3PXPqGbDZSQltUDm_oMo2e1pp0Ync0/
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To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go. -Mary Oliver I have so many beautiful candid photos of Mauricio and Canelo because I am the one who thinks to take photos in our family and I whipped out my phone to capture moments I wanted to save as they occurred, but it鈥檚 kind of hard to capture candid moments of yourself. I snapped this one a couple years ago after a long day at work, when I finally got home and wanted to remember how good it felt, how grateful I was to come home to him and his happy dance and his ability to make me feel better just by existing. Canelo was not a fan of my less than sneaky tactics, the result of which used to make me a little sad, but now photos like these make me laugh right when I need to most and I treasure them just as much if not more than the ones where he鈥檚 doing his best Blue Steel. I miss these moments. I miss his face, his weight on my lap and in my arms, how soft his fur felt as I absentmindedly ran my fingers through it, the sound of his footsteps trotting behind me everywhere I went. I miss how our house felt with him in it. I just miss him 鈾ワ笍 https://instagr.am/p/CCR7v5YDibV-iptMDFUMiXqGoC60-hme8SEjxI0/
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It鈥檚 a beautiful Sunday, and Canelo and I always spent a good portion of those sitting outside, him people watching and me reading while listening to music. Since he鈥檚 been gone, the beautiful parts of life are still just that but are also infused with the pain of missing him. Sometimes it鈥檚 a dull ache. Sometimes it鈥檚 sharp and so overwhelming that I can barely stand it. Today I am sitting out on the porch with my book and music playing and his outdoor bed and empty water bowl sitting in front of me because I still can鈥檛 bear to move any of his things from the spots where he left them, wishing so much that he was here. I started to feel that overwhelming pain when this song came on, written about a beloved dog. It鈥檚 a happy song. Canelo was the happiest boy. And he brought me so much happiness. And he鈥檚 not with me, not in the way I wish, but he also is with me.
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