I hope that by sleeping into the darkness of a nap, I will temporarily mask my sorrow.
Jake by Jim Barlett
The sickness took Max quickly rather than dragging out the pain for weeks, maybe even months.
Jake's eyes snap open, he quickly turns to the side. But like his aching heart, the spot where Max always sat on the couch remains empty. He takes in a deep breath - really more of a sigh- and squeezes his eyes closed.
Unable to sleep , he looks around the all too empty room, letting his gaze fall upon the leash, which still hangs from the peg by the door.
It seems to wait patiently, ever ready for the next big adventure.
For 15 years, they were inseparable. Always side by side. The walks on the beach with the gentle waves calling, the seagulls cawing. All those hikes on the trail and even just a ride to the grocery store for something Martha may have forgotten.
I thought you might be here. I miss him, too, Jake. More than you'll ever know.
Though he knows in some way he should be thankful for just-having their time together-those moments forever etched in his heart. Somehow, he is missing the years that could have been.
I guess you do know, don't you, Jake.
As his eyes well up, he realizes for the first time how much his grief weighs, how hard it is even to rise with such a heaviness inside.
It is then he hears a shuffle from behind and turns to see Martha standing in the doorway, her shoulder resting against the frame.
There's a faraway melancholy tone to her voice, but he knows herheart, like his, has a hole too big to fill.