𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐘 (𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬)

Holidays are hard for me, relentlessly ushering in both memories and reminders. Memories of days when Jimmy was here and all was right with the world. Reminders of how different things are now, and how untethered I still feel almost five years later.

The loss runs deep.

Today, though, I chose joy. I spent a glorious afternoon with family and friends, filled with cookouts, cornhole, and my sister’s precious puppy, Poppy.

I am officially, hopelessly, in love with her.

She is equal parts mischief and delight, exuberance wrapped in fur, and proof positive that joy comes in many forms if we will simply let it in.

I have long had a theory that puppies make everything better. When we initially thought my cancer might take me, I told Jimmy I wanted to have puppies available for adoption at my funeral. After all, who can be sad when surrounded by puppies?

The theory occurred to me again recently, during the first of three exasperating trips to the DMV: “If only they had emotional support puppies here!”

People were fighting in the parking lot, berating the poor, overworked employees, and grumbling loudly enough for everyone to hear. Puppies would have prevented every bit of it! I believe it. They would have diffused the tension, shifted the focus, and lightened the mood.

It is impossible to overstate the joys and unending delight they bring. No amount of anger, fatigue, impatience, or discouragement stands a chance against puppy-breath kisses, naptime snuggles, and floppy-eared greetings.

Whatever the circumstance, let me show you how it could work in daily life:

So your patience is wearing thin? Here, cuddle this puppy.

Hard day at work? Ten minutes with this puppy will make you forget.

Frustrated with your spouse or kids? This puppy never talks back.

Feeling lonely? This puppy thinks you hung the moon.

A bit discouraged? This puppy believes you’re the best thing since sliced bread.

See what I mean?

In all seriousness, of course Poppy can’t fix the really hard things. She can’t bring Jimmy back. She can’t erase the ache of his absence or the memories that weigh each holiday. But on a day that began with sorrow that lingers, she sure did soften the edges and fill my heart with unmitigated glee.

I am not minimizing the very real difficulties and devastations that steal the color from our days and the security we once knew.

Life, this side of heaven, is hard. It just is.

But I submit to you this: any choice we make to look past our pain to the beauty that still abounds, is a choice that matters. It requires intentionality on our part, but the reward more than makes up for the resolve.

So whether it’s puppy kisses, road trips, coffee dates, or sunsets, allow yourself to taste it all. Mine each day for joy, smack dab in the middle of the things you now mourn. Seek out opportunities to experience the wonder that exists, even in lives reshaped by loss.

If today feels heavy for you too, beloved, know this: I see you, I believe in you, and I am in your corner, kept company by the One who promises beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and a garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

“Teach me never to let the joy of what has been pale the joy of what is.”
~ 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭