Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Author Archives: dawnkinster


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All hail Queen Abby!

Katie here. Mama and I received very sad news last night. Our friend, the regal Queen Abby crossed the rainbow bridge yesterday. I was heartbroken when mama told me.

Queen Abby.

You might remember that I first met Abby a few years ago in Ann Arbor when we walked in the Arboretum together. We were both younger then, and we walked a long way!

This is fun!

Abby and I had so much fun! I noticed that though she was a little younger than me she carried herself with such grace, and looked so regal. I immediately decided she was a Queen. I’m sure you agree.

She was definitely royalty.

Then the moms got us together again, in a little park on an island in the Huron River. We had a beautiful day to explore, though we didn’t walk as much as we had before, we were getting older you know.

We were always willing to pose for our moms.

I so enjoyed my time with Abby. She was the perfect park explorer companion. We liked to walk together down paths and across fields.

Abby was a happy girl.

And we loved to sit together in the shade too.

Can you believe the moms want more pictures?

Abby was such a classy Queen. She never sniffed my private parts, and she never snapped at me, even when I was sniffing hers.

How you doing, girlfriend?

We got along like we’d always known each other. If we’d lived closer to each other I know we’d have turned out to be best friends.

The Queen surveying her park.

I think Abby was an old soul, you know? She was a wise, sweet girl who liked to go on adventures in a sedate sort of way. As befits royalty.

A Queen and her chariot.

And just like me, she was happy, no matter where she was, as long as she was hanging out with her mom. A wise girl indeed.

They loved each other so much.

We met again, our last walk together, just this past fall in another park. We hardly walked at all, but the moms found shady spots for us to sit and talk. We had a good time even though Abby couldn’t see very well anymore.

The Queen resting for a bit.

I’m kind of glad I didn’t know back then that it was my last visit with the Queen. I’d have been so sad, just like I’m sad now.

Content to sit near her mom.

I wish I could go on one more walk with her, but I know that when I cross the rainbow bridge Queen Abby will be there to welcome me and show me around. She’ll have her sight back, and we’ll both be able to hear again. And we’ll be able to run and bark and explore together forever!

We had a great view of the park from up here!

So, Queen Abby, please know how much I treasured our friendship. I know you have lots of friends and siblings at the bridge, but I hope you remember to keep an eye out for me. When I get there we’ll go on our royal walks once again, and everyone will be in awe of our combined beauty, just like they were when we were together down here.

Our last picture of the Queen.

Mama says she will always remember you too, and that little white patch on your behind. It makes her smile, she says, to remember you. Mama and I are keeping your folks in our heart. We know they will miss you forever.

The royal team and their shadows.

Run free, sweet Queen Abby. We sure will miss you Your Highness.

See you later sweet Abby.


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Sharpie

I’m washing dishes this early morning, pots and pans left from last night’s dinner. Katie observes me and, deciding I’m going to be there awhile, settles down on her rug in the breakfast room, in front of the door to her deck. She loves to survey her yard from that vantage point, but this morning she’s sleepy, tummy full of breakfast.

Her mind wants to keep an eye on the birds, keep watch for squirrels, but her body is determined to take a nap. I watch her eyes slowly close, then blink open, then close again. Her head starts to bob.

I stop washing dishes and stand there memorizing her.

As if she feels me watching, her eyes pop open and she gives me a side-eyed glance, checking to see if I noticed her dereliction of duty. I stay motionless. She relaxes and her eyes slide closed again, head still held high.

I tiptoe away, back to the living room to get the camera. Taking the lens cap off and turning back to the kitchen I am surprised by a little fuzzy girl standing right behind me, head tilted, watching.

“Whatcha doing mama?”

Sharp as a tack, this one.

My old girl.


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Searching for Snowy

Have you ever seen a snowy owl in person? Me either. But I’ve seen plenty of them, particularly this winter, on a Facebook group of Michigan birders. So last Friday, a college friend and I headed up to the thumb of Michigan where we thought we’d have a good chance of finding one.

You’d think there’s be an owl sitting up on that ridge line.

It was a cold and grey day and the sky was a dead uninteresting color. Not a day I’d go out looking for photographs, but we were attempting to beat the snow headed our way.

Such a chilly, dreary day.

We hadn’t seen each other in awhile and the first part of the trip was filled with lots of talking and catching up. And then, as we drove through farm country, I remembered we were supposed to be watching for owls. Big white owls.

I don’t know what this green cover crop is, but it reminded me spring will arrive eventually.

My friend knows more about the birds than I do and she reminded me they would likely be sitting on a fence post, or a building or even in an open field, but not so much in the trees I was scanning.

Barns and windmills dot the landscape.

We drove around a whole lot of country blocks but no owls were to be found. We even drove over to Midland, since we weren’t so far away, and checked out the Overlook Park where I’d seen eagles a few weeks before. No eagles. No pelicans. Nothing but a few deer.

Deer adapt to just about anything.

So, mission not accomplished. But we had fun exploring and talking and laughing. So in the end it was a successful adventure, as adventures go.

So do geese.

And, if you want to see a snowy owl or two, head on over to Trent’s blog where he had an encounter last weekend. His images are outstanding!

Not a single big bird of any type was found that day.

As for us? We’ll keep our eyes open, scanning those rooftops. You never know, right? Some day, somewhere we’ll see a snowy owl. Or an eagle or pelican. Or something else exciting.

I guarantee it.


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Fun, interesting, or stupendous things that may or may not have gotten done these past two years.

Back in 2019, instead of making a list of resolutions, I made a list of stuff I thought would be fun to do. I even ended up doing quite a few some of them.

So in 2020 I moved a few of the not done 2019 things to a new and improved list, and added a few more fun ideas, thinking about all sorts of exciting adventures and explorations.

And then covid.

2020 was brutal and I rarely looked at the list, though I did manage to do a couple of the fun things. But at the end of 2020, with the loss of my brother-in-law to covid, and so much overwhelming bad stuff happening, I never even made a 2021 list.

The 2020 list has been on my bulletin board ever since, reminding me that there are still interesting, fun and stupendous things to do, I just needed to figure out how to do them.

Here’s what was on that list, hanging on the bulletin board for the past two years and how it all turned out:

*Camping in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. — DONE the summer of 2021, two separate trips!

*Travel to Florida to meet the baby sheltie boys.–Not done, and they aren’t babies anymore.

*Purchase a set of extension tubes for my camera and explore macro photography. –DONE in 2020

*Make more vegetarian or vegan meals, goal being a least one per week. — Fizzled out

*Take a drawing class. — Not done.

*Spend several weeks in Alabama and invite friends to join me. –Well, I spent a couple weeks in 2021 there, but covid prohibited inviting anyone to come along.

*Walk in at least 3 5K races. — I think I did a total of 2 over the past two years. Both were virtual but fun.

*Improve my night photography skills. — I had an awesome time this past August shooting a meteour shower. I still have lots to learn.

*Spend a week in the Southwest.. –We were there in February of 2020, before we knew about covid.

*Ride my bike on some rails-to-trails around here. — Not done, and I have no idea why not.

*Take Katie camping at least twice this summer. — I tried once, in 2020, but she wasn’t having fun. We are probably limited to camping in the back yard these days.

So. Which of these should I include in my list of stupendous things to do in 2022? Or…should I abandon all of them and come up with some wonderful but wildly different fun stuff to do?

I feel like most of this can be done even in times of covid. But some of it feels stale too.

What would you keep, what would you add? What would you toss?

Inquiring minds (mine) want to know!

Some of your stupendous plans better include me and my park, mama!


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When Katie smiles

We’re on a roller-coaster around here. Katie has mostly good days, but even during those I can sometimes detect, if I’m observant, her underlying kidney disease.

During an early morning neighborhood walk today.

When I took her to a park to celebrate her 15th birthday a couple weeks ago, I thought we were both having fun. She was walking through the woods with me, sniffing things like always. But our walk was much shorter than normal, and when I looked at the photos after, I didn’t see the usual joy in her eyes. She wasn’t smiling in any of the images.

It was a frosty sort of morning.

That made me stop and really think about the quality of her life, and whether or not she would let me know when she was done. It’s hard to consider end of life procedures when she’s still excited about her meals, still wants to go outside. Still wags her whole behind when you walk in the door.

Is still so beautiful.

You know it’s my supper time again. Right mama?

And then we had a day like today, sunshine and 30 degree temperatures. Perfect sheltie weather. We went on multiple walks around the neighborhood, none of which she wanted to end.

Today, checking her park.

We went to her park — I was thinking we’d just walk around the pond, sure that she wouldn’t have the stamina to walk all the way around the park.

What are you doing taking pictures, mama? We have a whole park to explore!

But once we were there I let her make the decisions and she never once sat down or asked me to pick her up. We took it slow, but we walked all the way around her park’s perimeter, just about a mile.

It sure is a pretty day mama. I get a treat for posing, right?

That, on top of all the walks in the neighborhood should have exhausted her, but she’s been asking for her (numerous) meals right on schedule. And we’ve been on another walk around the neighborhood this evening.

It was a good day, mama!

I’ve looked at the images I took during our park adventure today. I’m pretty sure she was smiling. I guess it’s not time yet. Not today anyway, probably not tomorrow or the day after that either.

Yep, I’m still the Princess Katie and this is my park!

My girl. She and I are lucky we have more time together.

Still so beautiful.


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Broken heart

It’s now a proven fact that walking quickly on a treadmill, especially at an incline while wearing a mask, is not fun. I had a stress test this morning, as if life in times of covid isn’t already stressful enough.

While the tech was gathering “before” ultrasound images of my heart I gazed up at the ceiling wondering what a broken heart looked like. And if he’d be able to see that mine surely was.

Dad and his sister.

Seventeen years ago this morning my dad was killed, while slowed in traffic, by a semitruck driver who fell asleep at the wheel. Dad never had a chance.

So today I wonder about a lot of things. Whether our driver ever thinks about the man he killed. Whether today’s date stirs his heart like it stirs the hearts of my family. Whether he measures time in before and afters like we do.

And I think a lot about the recent sentence of the truck driver in Colorado who killed four people and injured several more in a firey crash in 2019. Colorado laws required that sentences for each of the charges he was convicted of be served consequently, and that’s why his sentence was 110 years.

Being a big brother.

Is 110 years too long? I don’t know. What is the right number of years for killing a person, intentionally or not? The Colorado driver made several bad decisions on his way to that devastating crash, the most important being him passing the truck runoff lane on his way to rear ending all those cars.

The driver that killed my dad made several bad decisions too, the most important being continuing to drive tired and not stopping at the state visitor center only 12 miles prior to the crash site. But in Georgia his bad decisions resulted in a misdemeanor and the max time he could serve in jail was 30 days. Is 30 days too short a time to pay for negligence that results in the death of someone else?

Being a dad at Christmas.

On one hand I’m sorry the Colorado driver got such a heavy sentence because it’s garnering sympathy for the driver. He says he wishes he had died instead of all those people. I thought for a moment that he felt remorse. And then he added, he wishes he had died ‘because this is no life.” His statement reflects his own fear and frustration and loss rather than any feeling of responsibility. Lost in all of the hyperbole are the injured, the dead, and their families. The real victims of this crash.

On the other hand, I am grateful that the Colorado driver got such a heavy sentence, because it’s bringing attention to these types of crashes which occur all too frequently. Time and time again I hear the same story. Someone was stopped in traffic. A truck doesn’t stop, for any number of reasons. People die horrible deaths. Truck drivers die too. Some people survive to live lives that are never the same.

Everybody involved lives in a world of before and after.

Being a dad to such a big family carries a lot of responsibility.

Earlier this week I attended a Zoom meeting with several volunteers of the Truck Safety Coalition. We’re trying to get through the holidays by leaning on each other. My heart, toughened by seventeen years of scarring, broke again as I listened to several new stories.

One young man feels lost because his fiancé was killed on her way to work a few months ago. They had a whole life planned — he was helping her get through nursing school, after which she would work and help him get through pilot school. Now he sits in their apartment stunned as he trys to come to terms of his ‘after.’

And another young person has been married only eighteen months when her husband was hit by a semi last month. He’s in an ICU now, can’t move, is on a ventilator and communicates by blinking his eyes. She had just started law school. Now she sits with him, advocating for his care in a hospital short staffed and overrun with covid. It’s not clear yet what their ‘after’ will look like.

Being appreciated by his employer.

That night our group talked a little bit about the Colorado driver and his sentence. The widow of one of the victims of that crash is new to our organization. She doesn’t want his sentence commuted. She says the people pushing for that have not sat through three weeks of testimoney. That they don’t know the whole truth.

She says that she, and all of us, were handed life sentences, too, the day that marked our own before and afters.

We used to laugh a lot. Before.

It’s a complicated issue and will take more pondering on my part before I know exactly where I stand. Meanwhile, I’ll start again repairing my battle scarred heart. No matter how many layers of patches I’ve put on it, it seems to break just as easily as it did seventeen years ago.

Thank you all for reading this far. Drive carefully. Stay safe. Protect that heart of yours and hug your families close. It’s a proven fact that broken hearts can’t ever be entirely healed.

I imagine he has an ocean view now too.