"Like sand through the hour glass, so are the days of my life," or so it goes. I got to thinking of this saying last night and this morning.
I have pretty much settled in the apt. Am getting a routine. I like this apartment living. Neighbors are quiet and respectful. I have met several neighbors. All seem nice. Dogs are the "kids" here. Everyone has them. While out walking my dog, we get to talking about our animals. We are always stopped with neighbors telling me how cute my dog is. He really is cute. He's a Maltese with a spirit you can't break.
We had our big dog, Bessie since she was 8 weeks old. Knowing we were going to this apartment, I knew it wouldn't be fair to keep her confined. Our old landlord's sister runs a rescue farm for dogs. She found a couple who wanted her. So, Bessie went to a new home 2 weeks ago. They called me and told me that she is thriving. She has 3/4 of an acre to run and bark. They said she is happy.
Giving my dog away was hard. I did not post it here when she went away. I wasn't ready. That was hard. It broke my heart. I have never given a dog away. I cried when they left. But, knowing now that she is so happy and has freedom, well, I feel better. But, hearing her name gives me a twinge in my chest.
So many changes. So many adjustments lately. Sometimes, I have to stop myself and wonder at all these changes since November and my decision to give up a big house, give a dog away and move to a small apartment. Wow.
I think it all caught up with me last night. Whew. That was a lot to deal with. But, like the saying goes, "so are the days of my life."
Husband is still not 100%. Who am I kidding? He'll never be that again. He is adjusting, slowly, but is not with it much of the time. He will sit in the living room, looking out the window at the park like setting, the duck pond with the water feature and be in his own world. Sometimes, he will be talkative, other times, silent. I look at him when he is quiet and wonder just what he is thinking. I wonder, are his thoughts jumbled up, like his speech? Does he hear voices? Mostly, he will tell me about his childhood. Funny, he can't remember to pull back the bed covers, but, his childhood is crystal clear.
His speech, for the most part, is always slurred. He will start to talk, forget a word, stumble over words, then, with a wave of his hand, stop talking. I fill in the blanks for him. It comes automatically to me. I think he likes that I do that for him.
Huh, filling in the blanks. Seems like I've been doing a lot of that lately. In more ways than one.