Something to believe in

I’d love to report that year three of grief has been better, or at least easier, than previous years. But I can’t. In some ways it’s been harder. Harder because more time has passed that I have walked this Earth without my husband. Harder because all of the fog that envelopes you in the beginning has completely lifted, and I’m left with nothing but the reality that Joe is really gone. I relish the times I spend with friends and family, but I desperately needed something to focus on day to day.

Enter Hope. My dog Hope has a very strong prey drive. She can smell an intruder in her yard from inside the house. She has tracked and chased squirrels, skunks, birds, opossums, frogs and rabbits. Her sister, on the other hand, is the diva of our family and could care less about chasing anything. Hope has a keen ability to find even the most well-hidden rabbit nests. While I’m not sure she means to, she has managed to kill quite a few baby bunnies over the years. That’s usually how we’ve known there’s a nest in the first place. She’ll gently pull a baby from the nest and carry it in her mouth to another location in the yard to “play” with. Of course, once she realizes it doesn’t want to “play” any longer all bets are off and she usually has lunch.

A couple weeks ago that exact scenario played out when I found three baby bunnies strategically placed throughout the yard. Two had unfortunately met their demise, but the third one was alive and well. I waited on Hope to show me where the nest was and then returned Fay to her brothers in the burrow, while Hope watched from the sunroom. Yes, I’ve named this new little family after the characters from one of our favorite movies, “That Thing You Do”.

Fast forward two weeks later and I am so invested in these bunnies. I’ve cordoned off the area with two layers of garden fencing and relocated a camera so I can watch momma (Marguerite) and her family. She comes most every day at dusk or dawn to feed and clean her sweet babies (Fay, Lenny, Jimmy & Skitch). It brings me so much joy to watch them together. I marvel at the beauty of God’s creatures who have chosen to start their lives right in my own backyard. I also worry how I’m going to keep my bunny killer away from them until it’s time for them to leave the nest. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but this is just the redirect I needed.

I wish I could say that year three was the year of growth and rebuilding. It has been more a year of reflection and solitude. The edges of my grief aren’t as sharp, but the memories still knock me to my knees sometimes. I’m learning to focus on the simple joys around me. I’m so grateful for the time I was given with my Joe. I’m not sure he would have invested as much time saving bunnies. He was more a “circle of life” kind of guy. But he’d be glad to know I’ve found something to believe in.