he's gone, but I can still hear him

it's a hazy, humid, warm summer day

the kind that makes things look a little surreal

muted

a storm is brewing

I could feel it in my bones and joints when I woke up this morning

not only is a thunderstorm coming

an ugly cry is building

it almost escaped this morning while I walked

I narrowly avoided several hugs that would have unleashed it

it's one of those days when I know Bill is gone, he is not coming back-

I was aware he was gone when I pushed the nurse call button

I realized it as I left his room and the crash cart was rushed in

I knew it long before the doctor came out and said "I'm sorry..."

but knowing it in your head

accepting the reality 

and knowing it in your thoughts 

where dreams and wishes roam

are two completely different things

today as I have sat and watched Xavier and Mia play with our

no, that should say watch them play with my new puppy

I can hear Bill say-

"how did we go from having one dog you weren't thrilled with,

to having three dogs!"

and if he was here I would answer

"I went to look at a puppy, saw sweet momma dog who needed a home

and I couldn't get one without the other, we belong together"

and his reply would be "welcome home momma and puppy dog"

Sam is trying hard to be happy about the new additions

momma dog is adjusting extremely well

and puppy dog is fitting right in