My family had to say goodbye to our beloved Rocky yesterday. I am so heartbroken that I didn't get to hold him one last time. Before I caught my flight back to Minneapolis a few weeks ago, I carried him up our long, steep driveway so we could take one more walk around the neighborhood together. I keep holding onto that--our quiet walks together--and the memory of him once stealing an entire sandwich right out of Rob's unsuspecting hand. He was silly and happy and always up for a snack.

I'm so grateful for this past year we were given to be so intentional about loving him while he was still with us. But it doesn't make it any easier knowing that he's gone. He lived a great fifteen years full of boat rides and cuddles and was blessed with so few health problems until recently. I loved him so much--still do. My life was made so much better because of that sweet dog.

My parents and I decided to visit Sean at school on Saturday, so we packed a little picnic lunch, loaded Rocky into the car, and drove to Farmville to walk part of the High Bridge Trail together. Walking across the bridge is really awesome--it feels like you're on a boardwalk at the beach, but you're high above the treetops the entire time.

When it rains and is warm and stays light out until well after 6:00 PM, I feel hopeful. I always say that I feel like myself at the beginning of autumn, but I guess that's not entirely true. It's the combination of the two. Fall promises that brighter times are coming, and then spring delivers.

It's the beginning of both of these seasons--fall and spring--where I truly feel like the person that I want to be. The productive person who reads and goes running every day, who doesn't feel anxiety, who laughs constantly and spends time with friends and tries to love everyone and eats brunch and drinks Bloody Marys outside on patios on a regular basis.

So when it rains and is warm and stays light out until well after 6:00 PM, I start to think about last year in Charlottesville, with walks around UVA and pistachio milk lattes on the patio of my favorite coffee shop and Sunday mornings at home with Rob.

I think about Farmville, and our undergrad adventures with roommates and friends who made everything fun. I think about Clarissa and Dirty Shirleys with Caroline at one of two of the only bars in town, and the 45-minute drive that Raquel and I used to make just to get dinner from Chipotle.

And next spring, I'll look back at this spring and think about taking my dog downtown for the St. Patrick's Day parade and stopping to let every kid we passed pet him, walking around until he was so tired and happy he could barely keep his eyes open on the drive home. I'll look back at the spring on the lake where so much of my life felt like it was in transition, and I'll feel the same way I do each year, but different.

I think that, after sharing some quirks with you yesterday, I should also let you know that my dog sees an acupuncturist.

She takes a very holistic approach to Rocky's health that I appreciate, and the other day she said that he would benefit from some coconut in his diet; so Rocky should have one or two macaroons a day, which I also appreciate and simultaneously find hilarious (there's just something about handing a dog a human dessert that cracks me up).

Anyway, my mom and I picked up a couple tins of macaroons at the co-op over the weekend and while she and I and Rocky thoroughly enjoyed them, we (well, two of us, at least) were a little put off by how much added sugar they contained. So we made a Paleo version. Because a Paleo family is a happy family, dog and all.

I took the day off from work on Tuesday, knowing that I would be exhausted from a late night of driving after the Death Cab for Cutie show (which, by the way, blew my mind just as hard as I expected it to). Instead of wasting a day sleeping in and then sitting on the computer like I had originally planned, I decided to put some stuff in my car and drive to my parents' house for a day of unpacking and organizing my old room.