we got the cherriot out for the first time this winter. mister was hobbling again. i think he was happy to ride. i found some cool items in the erosion, a little ceramic boy and a sweet little milk jar. mister looks up and can't see me a few feet away, he starts toward a gap in the see wall. i get his attention. i get sad. i feel like my mind is getting looser, i can't hold on to things. i still get excited when i find things from long ago uncovered by the sea. and sad when mister tries to follow, and i have to guide him back to smooth ground. we explored together, now he's struggling to walk and see. i get anxious for him and me. i plead inwardly for more time, in the great disintegration, a while longer i plead, and i know it will not be long enough, and i hope it's not too long when we wear out, when our minds and senses erode like the shore of the inland sea. see that boulder? it came over the sea wall.
r.'s coming home now, the linen's clean. when i'm sad i know i'm not alone. i can be sad and happy again. i think it's safe to say we'll have one more spring with mister, and day by day spring will have summer. i can even think of another winter, but i don't have to think of it now. now a simple hope, to shed my outer skin and get back into the water again.