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I planted a tree today another of my growing forest of Pinion Pines.
I call it therapy; others call it grief.
Every shovel a reminder of the hole that is in my heart.
Every rock an obstacle we had to overcome.
As Cookie lies snugly encased in soft earth with the Pinion to shade her way.
I know her life is without pain, she joins friends gone before.
Rest easy my butterfly.
My therapy is not complete but when the need arises, I stroll through my forest of friends.
They bring calmness to my soul, secure in my faith that they wait for me.
Cookie 99-08
I call it therapy; others call it grief.
Every shovel a reminder of the hole that is in my heart.
Every rock an obstacle we had to overcome.
As Cookie lies snugly encased in soft earth with the Pinion to shade her way.
I know her life is without pain, she joins friends gone before.
Rest easy my butterfly.
My therapy is not complete but when the need arises, I stroll through my forest of friends.
They bring calmness to my soul, secure in my faith that they wait for me.

