Life is change. ~Heraclitus of Ephesus, Greek philosopher
My son Domer was home last week (the first time we’ve gotten together since Christmas!)
He took care of some business he’d intended to tackle back in March before COVID-19 struck — service on his car, dental checkup, taxes — and even some work for his job.
All in all, a productive week — except for one tiny thing.
I’d hoped to get him to take a new profile picture of me for online, but that didn’t pan out.
It wasn’t because I refused to face the world with corona hair. Illinois finally reopened salons, and I was freshly coifed with a much-needed cut and highlight.
Nor was it because we ran out of time.
It was because Domer isn’t ready to bury Dallas.
‘Everybody knows you because of him,’ he told me. ‘You can’t act like he didn’t exist.’
‘Of course not, but that photo is ages old, and I think it’s time for an update,’ I told him.
‘No, I think it’s just fine.’
So that was that.
I’ve had nearly four months to acclimate to Dallas’s absence, but this was Domer’s first time home without Dallas being here.
And it wasn’t easy.
The little boy who was terrified of dogs has matured into one who loves them (because of Dallas).
And every chance he gets, Domer sends me photos and videos of adorable puppies — mostly the kind that grow up to be small ponies.
Cute, but far too big for me.
The struggle of helping a senior pup navigate up and down stairs is still fresh in my mind (and Dallas wasn’t big).
One day, I expect to succumb to the call of another pup.
And when I do, maybe Domer will agree to take a photo of us.
Maybe, but I’m not holding my breath!