After Tony passed away, I knew in the back of my mind I should call the hospice nurse and his children straight away. I also knew once everyone showed up, I wouldn't have another moment alone with him.
My thoughts turned to Blu. Would his children want her? Would I lose her also?
They hardly came over to see their Dad the 18 years I lived there. When they did come over Tony would put her in her kennel. She would growl and bark at them. To my relief they didn't want her.
Blu and I had to move to Arkansas soon after the funeral as his son was anxious to sell the house, cars, his motorcycle.
I only had enough time to pack my clothes, a few of Blu's toys, a few pictures off the wall and a stack of papers I had been collecting over the past few months.
In that stack of papers I had several with his handwriting on them.
In the middle of the night when I wake up missing him, just going through those papers soothes my soul. Just seeing his handwriting lifts my spirits up. I can hear him chuckling over the fact that for 18 years i called his handwriting " Chicken Scratch ".
For that brief moment in time the room isn't empty. His spirit fills the room. I know Blu and I will be fine.
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