Four-Footed Saviour
Dogs. Do you have one? I do. His name is Lewis, after C.S. Lewis, one the foremost writers of the Twentieth Century. Lewis, AKA Lewie, came to our home about a year and half after the death of our son. We know death, Hubby and I. He lost his mother at the tender age of sixteen, just as he was getting to know her as an adult and friend. I lost my brother at the age of twenty-three, just when we were getting ready to share our lives after his stent in the navy. We’ve both lost our fathers now, and my mother is also gone… My mother lived with us until her passing, so many of her things are here while she is not (yes, dispersing an estate from a home you shared with the deceased leaves holes that are exhausting but true). We had just recovered from my mother’s passing when our son suffered a massive cardiac arrest in our home and died three hours later in a hospital. Death. Yes, we know you well.
After Nathan died, we did all kinds of things to change it up. We redecorated almost every room in colors that were happy and up-lifting. We framed his