It’s been over a month since I posted The Long Goodbye. The past 6 weeks have become more variations on that theme. Back to the funeral home to select a headstone. Trips to visit the gravesite, etc. At the time it all happens you think everyone has heard, you have talked to or texted with or instant messaged with hundreds of people. But it’s not until after that you realize that there are hundreds more out there that you haven’t heard from or they haven’t heard the news. So you have to tell it again. And again. And again.

The Long Goodbye turns into the Longer Goodbye with each retelling. Sometimes I worry that I’ll never be able to stop telling Kim’s story. Sometimes I worry that I’ll never get to tell it again. It’s a paradox. Wanting to find that “new normal” but yearning and unable to stop thinking/talking about the old normal.

This weekend was the big Arkansas tailgate at the annual Southwest Classic game at AT&T Stadium. As with so many things in our lives, Kim was the driving force behind our tailgating. She was in her element there. So we tailgate for Kim. And for ourselves. To feel close to her. To continue the family tradition because nobody does tradition like Aggies do.

It was an early game so we found ourselves packed up and ready to roll out at around 4pm. We had all the pups with us so we decided to stop by the cemetery on the way home. The dogs had never been there. So we took them out, turned them loose and the most extraordinary thing happened.

Rollie bolted straight for her grave. Stopped and spent the next several minutes sniffing around then laid down right beside her. Just like he did on the bed during her last weeks. There was an instant connection between Kim and Rollie, from the day we picked him up. He didn’t live with us long, just a week before we took him to College Station to his forever home with the Budman. But every time they came to visit, or we went down to tailgate. It was a glorious reunion between those two. And this summer while they were with us Rollie spent a lot of time laying in my spot in the bed. Just keeping her company.

He felt it. He found her. And it was clear that in his canine mind he is also living through the long goodbye. Kim loved all the dogs, our little Aussie trio. Paisley, the oldest – our daughter’s dog – was taught to eat Cheetos in various unorthodox manners by Kim. Sarge, our little baby came into her life at the very end, just with her for two weeks, but she quickly started calling him “my puppy” and loving on him when he was calm enough. They all miss her to some extent. But it seemed more intense with Rollie. We joked that Rollie was Kim’s spirit animal and I think maybe there is a little something to that.

So the goodbyes continue. Some public. Some private. Some with friends. Some with strangers. And the tears fall. Sometimes at home. Sometimes in the car. Sometimes in front of AT&T Stadium.

Oh how I wish the goodbyes would end.

But oh how I fear that the goodbyes will end.