Claire Bidwell Smith

Well, Lily is gone.

All three of us took her to the vet this morning and we were all together in the room with her when she took her last breaths. I smoothed out the hair on her nose and held one of her little paws for the last time. Greg ran his fingers over her back and we thanked her for being such a good friend all these years. Vera played on the floor with her doll and said goodbye half a dozen times, replete with kisses to Lily’s forehead. We told her that Lily’s body wasn’t working anymore and that she had died.

“Oh,” Vera said, and then gave her one last gentle kiss, before turning right back to her doll and yelling and playing as though nothing had changed.

And now I’m home and Vera is napping and Greg is at the coffee shop writing and it is a bit as though nothing has changed. I’ll post this and then eat lunch and go back to my working on my novel and then Greg will come home and it will be afternoon and then evening and the day will pass as so many have before.

I’m glad Lily is peaceful now. Or at least I hope she’s peaceful now. These last few months were hard on her and I’m glad to think of her strange little soul unrestrained from such an old, tired body.

For as much hasn’t changed, I know that this is also the beginning of a new era. In a hundred different ways. I stand on a precipice these days, watching the next phase of my life shimmer into being just beyond. Life is nothing, if not change.

For something cheerier, check out these photos from my friend Amber’s sweet party for her daughter Nora, who turned one over the weekend. Talk about the cycles of life.

Thanks to everyone for all of your sweet comments and well wishes. Each one is soothing.