As I sat on a beautiful, cool, sunny Sunday morning with my faithful companion Truman on my lap, my mind wandered to how different life would be in 24 hours. Truman would be resting peacefully on my lap. But, this time, he would not be waking up.
As my thoughts brought me to tears, I heard through my open windows the glorious sounds of the returning mockingbirds — their notes of joy and song filling my ears and bringing me calm in the hours ahead that would surely be filling my soul with sadness.
Rita Kaplan, Miami