I never really said goodbye.

No goodbye because I continue to feel the love of Frankie in my heart.

No goodbye because I made the conscious choice before she died to deeply inhale the smell of her, embrace the feel of her warm, soft body, and sit with the memories of the joy and love she gave me.

No goodbye because I want every June 21st to be a celebration of Frankie’s life and all those she touched.

I honestly don’t know if I believe in the rainbow bridge. That is hard for me to share, as I realize many do. It’s not my intent to dishonor what is right for others. I understand it’s a way for many in dealing with, and moving through, their own loss. I respect that.

I believe Frankie and I are still together–she is just in a place I can’t see. But I trust she is where she needs to be–wherever that is. So I’m not sure she is waiting on the other side of a bridge.

I’m also not sure if she is really some “place”, but rather it feels as if she is  this illumination of divine light and love that makes my heart smile when I think of her. The love and light seems to come and go at just the right time when I need it.

To me, she is just here in a different way. A lighter way. A deeper way, and in many ways, a more meaningful way.

Reflecting on other pets I’ve lost, they were all hard. But Frankie’s passing was the most difficult to date I’ve experienced.

The beauty of it though?

How I’ve grown deeper in my spirituality once again, and in my own way of dealing with a profound loss.

I allowed the grief to swallow me at times. I swam in it, and almost felt as if I’d drown, feeling deeply every inch of the pain of losing her. I didn’t try to run from how bad my heart hurt. At times, it was so intense I honestly didn’t think I’d move through it. But I called upon my faith more than any other time that I can recall. I reminded myself to believe I’d find my way back to happy again.

I did. This, to me, is honoring the ultimate blessing that Frankie truly was to me– to many.

When I now feel joy, I feel it even more magnified for having moved through something I thought would crush my heart into tiny pieces.

I see now that my purpose grew even more defined. Caring for a dog that would become paralyzed was not a choice I would have made for my life. But then wanting to someday love another little one with special needs was something my soul yearned for as I moved through the years with Frankie.

The gift of Frankie, who opened my eyes to something I may never have otherwise seen.

I feel in a good place these days with Frankie at peace in a place that makes her happy. It’s no longer about her helping me, but a place that she can simply be. A place in my heart that rests easy in knowing we will always be connected in our own, unique way. A knowing that I can go on, and I am going on. That I will love again, and am loving again.

It took work for me to get here. Real work of accepting my process. Real work of allowing sadness to seep into every inch of my being. Real work of trusting I’d find joy again… even though Frankie’s physical presence is no longer here to remind me of how far I’ve come.

Reflecting back, I’d do every bit of life with Frankie all over again knowing my heart would shatter like nothing I’ve felt before.

And now… being fully present to this moment, here and now, I give my deepest gratitude for the love of Frankie who brought me to this time of now loving and caring for little Joie.

No goodbyes… only a journey that continues in just the way it is meant to be.

I. am. Blessed.

**The Life and Legacy of Frankie lives on with National Walk ‘N Roll Dog Day.  Join us on Facebook to continue to spread the positive message that dogs in wheelchair live quality lives if given a chance.