Love you, cupcake!

So, Rocco and I were meandering the streets of St. Peter this morning, on our way to the newly-appointed city dog park, maybe a mile or so down the road from my mom's adorable little apartment. I was thinking, as always, of Bob, so many thoughts tumbling and rolling in my head as they do, rough agates in a rock polisher . . . or whatever . . . when suddenly, right there at the intersection of Broadway and Minnesota avenues, waiting for the "walk" light to flash, a thought popped up in the midst of the tumbling: Why the hell not? I thought back: no kidding . . .why the hell not . . .why not just let go of the conventional and right now: believe, embrace, hold dear, that every odd, coincidental little event encountered since Bob's death, is absolutely that. A connection to/from Bob. Yes, indeed. Why the hell not.  

I couldn't even begin to list all the odd little "happenstances" that have occured  since Bob's death (let's not even get int the ones that occurred prior . . .), but until the moment this morning, at the intersection of Minnesota and Broadway, I have been skeptical, wary, doubtful, suspicious, even. But the "standard" path of grieving kinda sucks, let's be real, and isn't working for me, so today, I have decided to accept each and every "sign" I encounter as the workings of the universe.

And with that, Rocco and I arrived at the dog park and he played to his heart's desire with two greyhounds, a coon hound, a big floppy poodle and a couple of spaniels and I met a couple of really nice local peeps to chit-chat with a bit (though of course, I remember the dogs' names but not the humans . . .) before traipsing back to G'ma Coffee's . . .

On our way back to my mom's, a piece of paper speared in the bushes caught my eye, just outside her apartment building. I picked it up and read: 

Sealed the deal.

Love you, too. Bob. xxoo