The three of us were just sitting in the field. Blanket beneath us, speaker ringing, flowers growing next to us, with something floating in the air. Silence spread between the two girls. Neither of them could even think of words to say in the moment. You know when your mind seems to go completely blank? This happened. But it wasn’t even just blank, it was empty. I couldn’t really understand it. My brain really only thinks about my bowl full of food, never ever getting a bath, and this ball that sat in the field by the girls. It was just waiting to be picked up and thrown for me. I could tell the girls had problems. Not about each other, but some sort of conflict within. It seemed as if they were trying to figure out how to get through the days, and how to get through the memorial service that was looming above them.

I think that the sun really helped the girls that day. The trees were especially pretty, and the sun added a golden hint to them. It was sparkly and glittery in my eyes. The girls kept looking at me with love as if the sparkles were raining down on my fur. They kept eyeing the ball as if they were deciding if they should throw it for me. I don’t understand why they wouldn’t just do it. Maybe it was some huge moral decision that they had to work through. I didn’t get it, but I didn’t worry too much about it because I could tell something more important had happened. 

Glimpses of their conversation rang in my ears, but all I could tell was that one of the older ones…one that has been here a lot…one that the girls loved so dearly…that maybe…the memorial was for her? The elongated sadness was for her?  

The music that played seemed to connect them, through the low notes of sadness and the high notes like the strong sun of summer. One sang along, the other one just laying there quietly talking as if reciting a poem. “For us to feel this pain is a sadness in itself, but for us to truly be living this pain, hurts even more. None of it feels real, none of life does any more.”

In my opinion, grief is untouchable. Who knows how it’s gonna hit, like a wrecking ball or slowly over time. I don’t even really know what grief is, but I’ve picked up on it. I know the girls have felt it before, and I even know that I felt some sort of something when my old friend died. Who really knows what it is though. 

The ball was finally picked up and thrown for me. I know it’s not a very impressive summit to my day, but on such a solemn occasion, this was the most energetic the girls had been. The ball released from their hand and a small sparkle of a smile crept onto their faces. After the ball was thrown once, I had to keep the game going. Going and going, and running back and forth. It never stopped, until the two girls picked up their stuff and traveled back into the woods.