I have no idea what triggered today’s emotional meltdown. I went out for a great breakfast with two dear friends this morning and was feeling pretty good. When I got home, Waggs was so, so happy to see me; she really amped up the doggy greeting theatrics and made her elation extremely clear by throwing her pup self on the floor, wriggling all over. I was chatting with her and petting her, laughing at her crazy movements, when suddenly WHAM! A monumental wave of sadness hit me out of nowhere and totally dragged me into the undertow. It was as shocking as it was sudden; within a moment, I was sitting on the floor sobbing. I have no true idea of where it came from. The distinct thought, “Things are supposed to be different right now” loudly repeated itself in my head. I had the urge then to go into the nursery. I went directly to Lucy’s memory box in the drawer and untied the ribbon that holds it closed. That isn’t something I’ve done often since we came home without her in our arms, but today it felt necessary. I cried big crocodile tears and just looked through her stuff. Sweet little hand and foot prints, the clay imprints of her precious little hands and feet, her tiny flower headband, her identification band from the hospital and a couple other little keepsakes are stored in there. I unfolded the little outfit we put on her before we held her for the first and last time, tried to catch her scent from it, and just held it here on my lap. And then I just let myself really cry it out, let the noise just flow from me. After I collected myself, I carefully put her things away, tied the box shut again, and tucked it back into the drawer until next time. Then I sat in the rocker and read one of the books meant for her (Guess How Much I Love You). I felt the calm settle back over me and felt better for having embraced the sadness for a little while. It turns out, I just needed to do these things today. It’s impossible to know when the waves are going to slam against you when you’re sailing through the grief journey. I’m learning that no matter how much I think I have it together, there will be times when suddenly the pain and sadness demands to be dealt with, and that’s okay. I’ve been exhausted since, but I do feel better. Waggs convinced me that a walk was the best thing to do after a nice healthy emotional unraveling, so, we took one step and then another and continued on with the day, looking for signs of our precious Lucy.