I was in another country when you entered this world, completely unaware of your existence or your importance in my life.
I was sad, alone, broken, and empty when I met you. Nothing felt right, not even holding you the first time, but I went along with things because what else was there to do? You hid under the bed, in between books on shelfs, in small corners, and gave me stubborn side-eye. I would take you down to the creek behind the house I grew up in. You learned to swim in that same creek, months later. The tip of your tail was black when I first met you. Now it’s mostly white, curling upwards at the end. Your face was more smushed as a baby, whereas now its grown longer, making you look wiser. Wiser you are. The past few months I’ve felt us grow closer. It took awhile, but I can feel you start to love me almost as much as I love you. Now, you make sure a paw is reaching out toward me while we sleep, side-by-side. Now, we run together and you find joy when I come home. Now, you are One Year Old. Do you know? I hate the concept of time. I would stop it all to have you forever. Maggie, you’ve saved me this past year and I’ll never be able to repay you in enough love. Happy Birthday to my little bug.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Author's note:Hi, I'm Helen. Welcome to Lifted ~ I write to lift myself up. Archives
June 2021
|