The Pillars We Build from Loss

Sunday, August 17, 2025

Once again, I was up at 4 a.m.—and I’m really beginning to like this routine. The house feels as though it’s slowly returning to normal. I feel a little guilty about putting extra animal chores on Dameion, and sometimes Franklin, but it’s working. With their help outside, I’m regaining control inside.

After getting dressed, I slipped into my daily cleaning rhythm. Honestly, this routine stretches all the way until I finally lay my head down at night. I paused only long enough to pull my tarot card for the day: The Urn. It struck deep—Anthony has been weighing heavily on both mine and Charlie’s minds these last few days, and the card seemed to echo that grief.

The morning light promised sunshine until the afternoon, so I decided to let the goats graze and open the stand. I emptied the dehydrator of catnip, jarred it up, and set it aside while waiting for the guys to figure out what’s wrong with my vacuum sealer. Meanwhile, biscuits began to bake for breakfast.

a memorial object. ashes. history. old age. eternal remembrance.

Between cleaning sessions, I took care of my sourdough starter. For the past week I’ve been tossing out discard while scrubbing down her jar, but today she got a fresh jar and a clean lid. The bathroom received its deep clean and weekly bug spray, and I harvested the last of the basil for fall. Just as I finished feeding Snappy, I heard little voices stir. At Sephy’s request, I put on Bluey. By then, Franklin was up and walking the dogs, giving me the chance to finish the sausage gravy. By the time he returned, the kitchen smelled warm and ready, and Charlie was awake too.

catnip

The girls ate breakfast while watching a couple of short videos about caterpillars, then disappeared into play until lunchtime. After lunch, Aria and Sephy settled into nap while Lily went off with Dameion to work on chores outside.

Once naps were over, the three girls enjoyed free play until dinner. It was a slower day, and I felt unusually exhausted. Still, I managed to finish the hallway, bathroom, and Cain’s room—cleaned and sprayed for bugs—which felt like small victories.

But as the night wound down and Charlie and I sat together, Anthony came back into focus. He is the reason we are here. Everything we do is, in some way, continuing on in his memory. And yet, there are moments when the weight of it all—repairs piling up, bills due, animals needing the vet, Charlie’s surgery, the endless property cleanup—feels suffocating. Sometimes, we just want to give up. But we can’t. And we won’t.

The Urn card was a reminder that grief and endurance often walk hand in hand. Though the burden is heavy, we carry it because love keeps us rooted, even in the hardest seasons.