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My dearest Sophia,

There are no words to describe my pain because it is not really here yet. My heart is like a tiny hut, the vast ocean knocking on the door, I am waiting to be swept away with grief.

I loved you like my own child. You were the light of my life, and you died of a broken heart. There is an unspeakable emptiness, a physical one, because you are not on my shoulder.

When my grandfather died, when Petey died, I felt their presence almost immediately in my own soul. It was as though through their transcendence into immortality, their physical presence became an immediate spiritual one—and I still feel it now.

Sophie, this is not so with you. I do not want to know that you have died. I do not want to believe I shall never see your pure eyes, experience your wings spread across my chest, feel the feathers of your sweet head under my chin. Sophie, I adored you, and I always will. I love you with all of my heart and I am so very, very sorry.

I do not know why God is ripping apart from me all whom I hold dear. My world has fallen apart and I do not know why.

But I loved you and am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I’m not sure I will ever be able to forgive myself.
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My Dearest Petey,

My heart is broken tonight as I sit here without you. When I came home this evening I found your lifeless body at the bottom of your home. I ran over to you, hoping against hope, that your spirit had not left the shell of your body. But it had, as told by the stiffness in that shell I had come to so love.

You were my angel-boy, a seraph who had come into my life for the briefest of visits. This morning you didn't look like you were feeling well. I promised to call the vet if you still didn't look too perky tonight, never suspecting that you could slip away so quickly. I had a board meeting--I absolutely could not miss it. I should have called J to ask him to take you to the vet. I am so sorry my love. I will never forgive myself.

As I held you close to my chest this morning, kissing your precious little forehead, and keeping you against my heart, I thought of how happy you have become here. I thought, with a touch of humility, of how very much you trust me, how you seem to love me too. Last month you learned to fly from the top of the patio shed. You were so very proud when you took that first leap off of the scary-high spot. You landed on my hand, bursting with joy, and you spread your wings and bobbed. I kissed you and hugged you, so very proud, too. (Then you climbed back up and we did this ten more times!)

Last week we started practicing how to wave. I felt a touch of humility then, too, as you let me touch your wing, and, saying "Wave!" you would lift it ever so slightly. Then you dived into my chest for kisses and cuddles. Yes, my little love, it took courage, and I was so humbled to have earned such trust. All this week we practiced "Jump!" with a wave when you landed--and you did so well.

Thank you for your trust, for your love, for your cuddles. I remember when we first brought you home I couldn't hold you for ten seconds! And now you rode around my shoulder, observing all I do, an extension of my heart.

I know your spirit is free in that endless sky, where you fly unhindered by fear or the scars of abuse. I know we will meet again soon, and look forward to seeing your beautiful eyes and kissing your sweet forehead.

Much love,


PS--please keep an eye on your little sister, Soph. I'm not sure I'd survive losing both of you.


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June 2010



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