Weird, Little Thingys

Dear Readers,

This morning, as I wandered into the little coffee shop at UVM, I took notice of a cute, little, brand-new power-bar thingy at the register. It had oats and nuts and dried fruit and had appealing packaging.

“Oh, I love that!” I said. “Beau would love that! I’ll get him one.”

Uh. Oh.

There is no Beau.

Back in my dad’s early days at Juniper Memory Care, I’d routinely send him weird little things: silly yet healthy snacks, laminated Fall leaves, cards and letters with funny cute pictures of kittens and albino alligators.

Nora once had to ask me not to send any more Dried Goji Berries because Beau was eating them in bed and spilling them all over the floor. Even before Alzheimer’s, Beau could make a terrible mess from even the smallest of things–especially if they had the power to stain.

Anyway, I paid for my coffee and left the weird little snack bar thingy in its display case. I didn’t cry. I didn’t do anything but think about how weird it is that Beau’s gone.

After a while, I Googled “weird little things.” Guess what came up? A picture of a heart in a jar.

And guess what is the very last line of my book about Beau? It’s the heart that belongs in a jar.


Weird Ole Gal

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