|South on Monroe Ave, 4:40 PST|
Maia and I hit the road at 4:22 this afternoon. I was tempted to take a pass, after work and stopping at the CPA for my tax form. Maia was too eager and ready, so I thought well I'll do it, just don't think: change clothes, leash up the dog and get out. Who is going to bother me with a large dog and later on, a bag of you-know-what?
Lately on my walks I imagine that I'm chatting with Mark. He would be glad to know that Maia is getting what she needs: walks, play, meals, and attention. He would say,
"Hiya Toots, how are you doing?"
"I'm okay, best I can do. How are you?"
"Doin' okay....no more cancer, or chemo."
"That's good but I really miss you."
"You have to go on, right? You're doing what needs to be done?"
"That's my line!"
"I know, but I REALLY miss you. I wear your tatty plaid shirt, did you know that? And your wedding ring, and your Cannon Beach jacket."
"Are you crying a lot?"
"Not as much, but it comes and goes. When I look at your empty side of the bed, I do cry."
"Well, stop it!"
"And if it were me??"
"But that's different....."