so maggie...

as i lay in bed last night, 

i silently cried. 

i missed my baby,

my love... 

you know, 

the one i've often written about 

over the years- 

my precious maggiepie. 

from the second 

i took her  

from the breeder's arms 

until the second 

she took her last breath, 

she was love.

she was 

the epitome 

of joy. 

~@~

what i am about 

to share is very emotional 

and raw. 

i'm sharing because 

what happened on the day 

maggie 

went to heaven 

was so sweet- 

so perfectly perfect- 

so 

maggie. 

~@~ 

on thursday morning, 

john, mag, and i got 

out of bed. 

john took her outside 

while i prepared 

her breakfast. 

when she came inside, 

she ate her breakfast, 

and john gave 

her a cow ear chewy 

just like every morning. 

she brought it back to bed 

and chewed on it 

for a few minutes 

then stopped, 

which was not normal, 

but maggie was ill,

a totally 

new normal 

for us all.

~@~

since, she hadn't been 

feeling well, 

i had put off giving her 

a much needed bath.

so,  

the night prior 

i had asked john 

if he thought it would be okay 

to bathe her.

he said sure, 

it would probably 

make her feel better. 

she LOVED being clean!

in hopes of perking her up, 

i called for her 

to come into my bathroom. 

she did, 

and i gave her a bath.

after towel drying her, 

i opened the door. 

she tore out of the bathroom

 to the den

to find her daddo, 

who had gone 

to run errands. 

while maggie was 

in the other room

looking for john, 

i grabbed mossi, 

bathed,

and towel dried 

her as well. 

she, too, raced  

to join maggie. 

while they were running

through the house, 

i jumped in the shower 

to wash the dog off me. 

i was in the shower 

just long enough 

to shower. 

when i was finished, 

i towel dried,

threw on some clothes,

and

i slicked my hair back

in a ponytail. 

i opened the bathroom door 

to find the two, wet monkeys 

in the middle 

of my bed

-my freshly laundered bed-

staring up at me...

after cracking up 

at the sight, 

i took a picture 

and texted their daddo,

"i might should have 

bathed them-

then

washed the bed clothes;)"

i stuck my phone 

in my front pocket, and 

i told the monkeys 

to get out of my bed.  

i grabbed a couple of dry towels, 

and led them into the den. 

~@~

after situating the towels, 

i picked up a couple of throws 

and lay down on the couch 

to snuggle with my girls, 

which i always did.

mossi immediately 

got under the covers, 

and 

maggie got next to me.

me: do you feel better, maggo?

she looked up at me, 

and i kissed her cold, wet nose. 

when i did she got excited 

and jumped up on top of me. 

she started giving me kisses.

i blindly reached 

for my phone  

and videoed her. 

oh.my.God.

she.was.so.cute!

after getting a little footage, 

i placed my phone 

on the coffee table. 

as i moved to do so, 

maggie got really excited 

and started really kissing me.

~@~

then it happened-

it happened 

in an instant... 

she went limp, 

her pupils blew. 

my baby, my angel 

was still breathing, 

but she was gone...

i sat up; 

again, i grabbed my phone,

then called john. 

me (through tears): maggie collapsed! 

john: i'll be right there. 

i'm almost home.

me (to maggie): it'll be okay, baby.

mama's here, 

and daddo will be here 

in just a minute. 

i rocked her gently,

held her tightly, 

and 

i prayed boldly, 

"please, God, 

please, don't let her suffer!"

john came in and sat with us.

john (to maggie): it's okay, girl. 

we are here. 

you're a good girl...

you've been 

the best girl.

we cried.

john and i 

and continued 

to talk to her and love on her 

until long after 

she took her last breath. 

when the time came, 

john went out 

to his truck.

he returned 

with a small, 

maggie-sized casket. 

he'd had a friend make it 

for her. 

it was so simple- 

so beautiful...

it was 

so maggie.

~@~

me: do you want 

to hold her for a while? 

john nodded he did.

i took her to him.

me: i will go get her things.

he nodded okay.

 tears came again.

~@~

john had already 

brought me their favorite toy, 

rangaboom.

i went into my closet 

and pulled out our favorite toy, 

five little monkeys.

i picked up 

her pink chenille pillow 

to put under her.

then, 

i went to my hope chest 

and opened it. 

there it was...

the.blanket.

~the blanket 

i wrapped 

a new-born katherine in

to bring her home

from the hospital,

~the blanket 

i took to the hospital 

to keep mosses warm 

on the nights before he died, 

~the blanket 

i took with me 

to bring maggie home 

from the breeder 

on that cold, december day 

nearly ten years ago.

i placed her 

along with her things 

in her casket. 

i covered her up 

with the blanket.

and, 

finally, 

i took off the tee 

i was wearing, 

folded it, 

and placed it 

under her beautiful face.

later that afternoon 

after katherine arrived 

from work, 

we said our final 

goodbyes,

and, 

her daddo buried her 

in the flower garden 

next to the rock wall.

it was 

ALL 

so perfectly perfect- 

so maggie.

love and God's blessings,

dani xxx

perfectly imperfect...

when i saw this 

precious photograph of charly's 

 grandmother's tiny, imperfect 

hand 

in hers,

i smiled.

i knew a little of this

most perfect gift 

she was holding...

~@~

my parents divorced 

in the spring

before my freshman year.

mom wanted to lease a condo 

on the river, 

but the new complex was full.

so, she put her name on a waiting list 

and began looking for a place 

for us to live.

her company's physician 

heard she was looking and 

offered to let her rent 

a house he owned 

on hi-y drive.

when i heard, 

i was thrilled...

as i was friends with wendy,

who lived right next-door
to the house.
we moved in the week 
before school was to start.

always thoughtful and kind, 

wendy offered to let me 

ride to school with her.

again,

i was thrilled...

as i hadn't ridden a school bus 

since second grade 
and was nervous 
about having to do so.

"are you sure your mom 

won't mind?" i asked.

"not at all," wendy assured.

so, for the next three months,

every morning,
mrs. monsen took us to school
stopping 

at the bakery or hardees 

making sure 

we had breakfast. 

every morning 

for those three months

 i sat 

in the back passenger seat, 
talking to 
and laughing with wendy
and her mom... 
all the while
 secretly, in awe

paying close attention

to mrs. monsen's hands
as she drove us.

i remember the first time
i noticed something different
about her hands...
it was the morning 
of our first day of school.
mrs. monsen started her car.
on the radio,  
kenny rogers' and dolly pardon's
"islands in the stream" 
was playing.
wendy asked her mom 
to turn up the volume.
it was
when she did so,
i noticed
arthritis had attacked 

and mangled her hands.

they were so tiny and so deformed.

i didn't know how she was able 

to do anything with them.

however, she did.

over time i learned 
she continued to do it all;
she

worked, 

cleaned,

cooked, 

and, yes, drove her car... 

like there was nothing wrong

at all.

and.i.never. 

once.

heard.her.complain.

~@~ 

one of the condominiums
came available
in november of that year.

before we moved,

i wanted to do something 

special for dear mrs. monsen.

(she probably didn't realize it,
but she had made 
my transitioning
after my parents' divorce
so much easier. 
she had been such a blessing
to me.)

so, mom and i went 

to o'daniel's flower shop,
which was completely stocked
for the holidays.
after looking at most everything
in the shop,

i picked out
what i thought was
the perfect  

Christmas candle arrangement
and asked them to deliver it 

to mrs. monsen  

to thank her,
for her kindness.

she loved it...
i loved that she loved it!

~@~

that was the last, real
contact i had with
mrs. monsen-

until memorial weekend
last year
when
i learned from wendy
her dad had died
unexpectedly.
my first thoughts 
turned to dear mrs. monsen. 
having kept in contact 
with wendy,
i knew time and disease
had continued 
to take 
their toll on her mom;
i knew her dad
was her mom's caregiver,
her rock...

~@~

i made sure to go
 to mr. monsen's funeral
to pay my respects
and
offer my condolences,
 love, and support
to wendy and her family.
when the service ended,
i made my way 
to the front of the sanctuary 
to speak to the family.

mrs. monsen was sitting 
in her wheelchair.
so, i knelt in front of her.
taking one of her 
fragile hands in mine
and began to introduce myself to her... 

me: hello, mrs. monsen.
i don't know if you remember me 
or not.
i'm dani dr..
mrs. monsen: dani! 
of course i remember you.

mrs. monsen began to tell 
me she was so happy to see me, 
she told me the importance 
of old friends, 
and 
she thanked me for coming.

when i looked back down,
i noticed i was no longer 
holding her hand.
instead,
she was holding mine 
with both of hers.

her hold was one of the softest, 
kindest, most loving,
i had ever known. 
i realized 
she was the one comforting
me.

it was sweet. 
it was simple.
it was a gift.

in that moment 
i was receiving another 
blessing 
from this great lady. 

had there not been 
a line of people behind me,
i could have sat there with her 
all afternoon...

my hand in her 
perfectly imperfect hands.

love and God's blessings,
dani xxx