Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the light on over open plain,
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the rush of birds in flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die…
Oh how this dog loved to run. We lived by Benson Sculpture park. We would walk, and when the grass was long, the days were hot, and that grass was cool – Tonka would look up at me and I knew………. We were going to run. He would break into a lope, when he was young, I could hardly keep up with him! My 10 lb baby boy! And even when he was sick, we’d go to the park, and he’d look up at me and we’d break into a gentle trot. I could have kept up by walking fast, but he didn’t want that. He wanted me running by his side, so we would run. As far as he wanted to.
When it was time to get into the car, he’d dig into the ground like a stubborn mule. He would not come to the car until we had done a few more laps up and down through the grass. My favorite pictures of him are when he’s running, that was the purest expression of joy that I have ever seen.
I miss that dog, he was special. I left his shell at Rainbow Bridge, I carry him with me. I have burned candles since his passing, and I have flowers on the table with his ashes…… it will be so for some time. I am not sure if I need to heal from anything, but rather adjust to his loss. There will be another, and it isn’t fair to that one to say “There will never be another Tonka”, but I did ask Tonka to pick the next one out for me, and I have faith that he will.