Saturday, February 25, 2006
Today we sang Great Kanzeon for Molly as we buried her. Watching her sweet face disapear was dreadful. She had the most glorious copper red fur and big black eyes, and charmed most people who met her. Knowing I wont see them again is awful, but standing in our garden in the middle of all thats ordinary, facing death which is the most extraordinary and yet most ordinary of all things, was occassionally blissful. When we'd forgotten about our dripping noises, sore throats and how cold it was, when we just sang for Molly it was really ok. Isn't it great when things are so tough, that we can be touched by miracles like that? Thank you!