Fred the Fairy Dog

Last Saturday was one of the hardest days of my life. I buried a dear friend far too soon. I am proud to say that I made it through her funeral without openly doing the "ugly cry" or indulging myself in some good old chest shaking, snot sucking sobs, but I really wanted to. (I did that part at home.) I think I managed to hold it together pretty well until I saw Beth's daughters. Then I freely admit that I lost it. I can remember how it felt to be standing in their shoes like it was yesterday. Their young lives have changed in a way that is completely unimaginable. The enormity of what they are facing-life without their sweet mother in it-hasn't even begun to sink in yet. I can guarantee that it will, slowly and painfully, for the rest of their lives. My heart is completely broken for them, and for her husband. I can't imagine losing the person you can't breathe without, nor do I wish to.
Her service was a sweet remembrance of a devoted wife and loving mother. And true to form, she actually made me giggle. At the end of the very long list of survivors, was the name "Fred Maloney." It didn't sink in until I got in the car that Fred Maloney was not just any family member. He was her dog. Frederick the Fairy Dog, to be exact. When they got him as a puppy, Beth did some research and learned that, according to legend, the white patch found on the back of the neck of most Corgis was called a "fairy saddle." And so, Fred the Fairy Dog became family, complete with his own ducky pajamas. For those of my friends who are Corgi people, you know how lucky she was to have counted a Corgi among her survivors. I never thought my dear, sweet, amazing friend would be able to make me smile at her funeral. But she did, just like she always has. Well played, Beth, well played.
And, yes, I know that she is no longer in pain. I know that she is in a better place. I know that she is young and beautiful, with a tiny waist and blonde hair again. But I am still so incredibly sad to see her go. I have to say that I do still end up with a smile on my face every single time I think about her. I hope that after I am gone there's someone left who can say that about me. And I think that's a legacy she would be proud of.

Okay, okay, enough with the sad stuff! I promise that my next post will be back to something funny. The baby is potty training. I got a whole chapter's worth of material for my book when I went through this with her sisters, so I know there's some good stories coming soon!