I can't believe that today is actually the last Friday of August! I know I say that every month, but wow, where is summer going? The past week in Northwest Indiana it's felt like Fall is finally upon us (next week it's supposed to be in the 80s...) and I am so ready to break out my scarves and boots!

But today isn't about my love for Fall, it's about the five things I learned this month...

1. How to drive a four wheeler.

For the first time in my 30 years, I have finally learned how to ride a four wheeler safely. And I love it. Find out more here. 

2. Friendship is not about how close you live, but how close you choose to stay.
My bestie has lived about 14 hours away from me for about three years now, and we tend to keep in touch through text. Sure we talk a couple times a week, but I can tell you how easy it would be to just give up on our friendship since she lives so far away. But we haven't. We have been friends since sixth grade, and we choose to stay close. I really think we are closer now than when she actually lived like 20 minutes away from me. And it's not awkward when she comes home a couple times a year.

3. Family is family, no matter what. 

This month really hasn't been my month and with what happen last week, I now know that I can count on my family to be there through thick and thin, no matter what. They are my comfort, my sorrow, my happiness, my joy, my ground, and my world. And now, we are whole again... aka, my hubby and parents are finally getting along and my brothers are now accepting my hubby into their circle. 

4. Even though someone doesn't show that they are hurting, doesn't mean that they aren't hurting too. 

I really though that the loss of our puppy was only weighing on me, and not my hubby. Maybe I was just being selfish, because he didn't show it. But sitting by his side when we said goodbye to our baby, and seeing his tears showed me that he really loved our baby as much as I did. But once the tears stopped, he put on a front to hide his sadness. He told me to get out of the house and stop thinking about the puppy. Of course, I took it as though he wanted me to forget. I was wrong. Once his next day off, after the passing, came along, he confessed that he missed our puppy and couldn't bear to be in the house, because all he thought about was him. At that point, I knew I wasn't alone in the sadness and even though he didn't show it, he was hurting too. 

5. How to say goodbye to a friend
It's never easy to say goodbye to a pet. Never. And I am still learning to deal with my pain, but I've pulled myself together over and over and put a smile on my face.

A letter to my friend: 

My beloved friend, 

Every time I have tried to begin this, I break down. Your absence is definitely making an impact on me and our family. Especially since Gav keeps asking about you and every time I tell him where you are, he asks, "can we go pick him up?". I can't blame him, you have been there his whole life. And it hurts me. Anytime I've found one of your squeaky balls, I break down and ugly cry. Yes, the cry that you have seen once or twice.

It's been a week since you crossed that rainbow bridge and I hope you are playfully happy. I also hope you are no longer in pain. I'm sorry for cutting your life short, but I couldn't bear to see you dwindle in front of us. I know it seemed like you were having more good days than bad, but it was a smoke screen. Like I told Dad, it felt like the pills were putting up a smoke screen, and you were going to crash. Hard.

I want you to know that the decision to let you go wasn't an easy one for me. You had been my baby for over seven years. You were my baby before Gav was even thought of. And you will always be my baby. My little fluffy ball of terror. Always.

Sure you were growly with Gav but you were just talking. Sure you made me mad here and there and annoyed us with your incessant barking, but we loved you. And we still do. 

I wanted to keep you around for the sanity of it all. I wasn't ready to let go yet and I'm still not ready. Anytime I think of you, or see your picture, my eyes well up. The only thing that grants me solace is the fact that I know that in your last few hours, you were happy.

I hope you are definitely in a better place. I have to believe you are in heaven and playing, running, jumping, and happy for this to get better. For the scar tissue to develop over my heart.

I love you. 

Love, Mom