I really didn’t want to love this little terror. I didn’t want to open myself up to this pain, this searing, unending pain, this loss that doesn’t get better with time, not again. And then they put him in my arms and my heart went – oh, wtf, let’s do this.
Little Maverick. You are the sweetest little tiny terror.
I asked Max to send us a puppy. I guess he knew we needed laughter in our lives again. The Tiny Terror has mde me laugh more in the past few days than I have in months.
And still I cry. I miss my Max so much, and everyone tells me it will get better, and I should be getting over it and Maverick will heal my shattered heart.
That’s an awful big job for a Tiny Terror. I don’t think he’s gonna make me whole. I think he’s gonna make me laugh and let me see that I can love again, and that there’s still laughter in my soul. Max taught me patience. Good thing, because the tiny one is on the go from the minute he wakes up till the moment he crashes. And oh, that moment, when he’s almost asleep and so sweet and soft and cuddly – that makes all the biting and tearing up the house worth it.
But it sure would be nice if I could get more than a couple hours of sleep at a time!