Today was better. Not perfect, but better.

Last night when we went to bed, the kids’ hearts were especially heavy, and I found myself wondering how long it would take before we found our footing again. But I’ve noticed something over the years. Everything seems heavier at night. Grief, worry, fear… it all seems to settle in once the sun goes down.

It didn’t help that a pretty bad storm rolled through. As Gage looked out the window toward Bowser’s grave, he quietly said, “Mom, he hated storms so bad. I want to bring him inside.” That one sentence brought tears to my eyes because I knew exactly what he meant. I remember the night we buried my dad. A terrible storm came through that evening, and I cried thinking about him being out there alone in the rain. It’s irrational, I know, but grief rarely concerns itself with logic. Hearing Gage express the very same thought reminded me just how deeply our children love.

Today, though, carried a little more light.

Clementine finally left Bowser’s grave alone. Yesterday she spent so much time sitting on top of it, scratching at the ground and making a fuss. She also saw the little box we brought him home in from the vet. I’m sure she could smell him and understand things in ways we simply can’t. The capacity dogs have for loving one another never ceases to amaze me. They possess an awareness that’s difficult to explain unless you’ve lived alongside them, and I think we often underestimate just how deeply they experience loss.

The rest of the day was comfortingly ordinary. Gary installed bidets in the bathrooms, which somehow still makes me laugh. I know they’re common in other parts of the world, but they’re still a novelty here. Once you’ve used one, though, it’s hard to imagine going back. You just feel so much cleaner. We upgraded ours and put one in the kids’ bathroom too. We’ll see if they become converts.

While Gary played plumber, I spent the afternoon making dinner, worked on a little artwork, puttered around the house, did a few loads of laundry, and enjoyed the slower rhythm of the day. Nothing remarkable happened, and honestly, after this week, that felt like a gift.

Now the rain is moving back in, and tonight is Gary’s last shift before he’s off through the weekend. He doesn’t go back until Wednesday, so we’re hoping for a little beach time if the weather cooperates. Mostly, though, I’m just looking forward to a weekend filled with good food, good music, maybe some time by the pool, and the chance for all of us to catch our breath after such an emotionally draining week.

Yesterday felt impossible. Today felt manageable. If tomorrow is just a little lighter than today, I think that’ll be enough.