…and thank you for asking.
“She came to me Sunday soup line.
Went down to get my soup and sandwich
and one of the guys had a puppy in his shopping cart.
‘What do you want for her?’
‘How about your soup and sandwich?’”
“She was a wake-up.
Turned out to be a life-changing thing.
I’d been homeless since early teens.
Didn’t know life could be more than living in the moment,
more than the chaos of survival.
“My father died on the street. Life overwhelmed him.
I judged my father. I didn’t know him.
Getting caught out in the rain wasn’t weather,
it was a personal attack.
No central control over life.
“Everybody is influence:
a lesson, a tragedy, a mystery, an opportunity.
The puppy was a mystery, a living joy.
She was a complicated animal,
No sense of stability. Smart but damaged.
Magic and mystery—two sides of the same coin.
Her damage joined my damage and
I named her Magic.
“She wasn’t crazy about dogs.
I wasn’t crazy about people.
When I sensed she had a willingness to explore possibilities,
by circumstance or choice, did I have the right to turn away?
“We shared 12 years together.
Traveling up and down, traveling all over.
Traveling so good for the mind.
We did a West Coast bike trip. Awesome
Strange. Exhilarating like culture exchange.
In spite of flaws. It didn’t matter.
Differences what you make of them.
Honor Magic’s trust?
‘Do I have what it takes for commitment?’
Meaning from now on forward, never giving up.
Running no longer an option.
And no running from myself.
I would be her safe place.
“She taught me:
daring the courage to feel,
sharing necessities that nourish,
welcoming personal capabilities
variously understanding together
strengthening the kindness of love.
“Leaving behind our solitudes
the world gifted us wholeness.
And I never saw it coming.
“I am living in Dignity Village to help create those responsibilities.
Any darkness I carry is from my in and out and long ago.
On the road I knew it was time. I brought her home to a safe place
and let her go. Nothing harder have I ever done.”