I met up with my best friend from nursing school at a conference on friday. We hadn't seen each other in 6 years, but instantly we were chatting like no time had passed. All day I tried to focus on the speaker and not think about my dog; my family. Oddly enough, at the end of the conference, during our "what else has been going on in the last six years", my friend said; "Oh, and both of our dogs died." She had had two beautiful, loving, lap-dog Rottweilers. I dog sat them a couple times and adored them. Each of them were as big as I was, but somehow they had no clue of that and would try to cuddle like a teacup poodle. She told me about them; I told her about Jessie. And then she said this, "Yeah, that's really hard. You know, that's like the real grown up stuff. Yeah, you have kids and all that, but once you have to make that decision, as a family, and you lose a member of the family... It's just... grown up." And that's why I love her. She wasn't over the top with empathy. She didn't make me cry. She didn't want the whole sad story. But she understood. And she was right. It's hard to be the grown up.
In the spirit of good friends and not growing up:
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