On Saturday, I found this photo in a little album. Timothy was three, and the dog was a new puppy, not yet house trained. We had just moved into our new house in Sahuarita, Arizona. Mark would be born in a few days. Paige was dancing ballet almost every night, and Daniel would soon begin piano lessons. I miss those little faces.
I keep “hearing” the dog’s step, and expecting him to follow me around the kitchen, or to greet me at the door. Today, I saw Richard out of the corner of my eye and my mind registered that he was holding our dog. It will take some time to get used to living without the pup.
I am lucky to be able to see our children pretty often, but having a missionary is definitely a heart-stretching time. We were six plus a dog when we moved to Utah, and now we are three in this house.