Nancy Shawver

I ran into a friend the other day. He was mourning the loss of his companion of 18 years. Everyday, waking together; every night, resting together. Sharing meals, music, friendship and tenderness. Love.

I know how he felt; tears came to my eyes.

The empty space.

The sudden sense of being … less loved.

I wasn’t able to provide much comfort to my friend, and for that I’m sorry. I hope he can find solace in knowing that he was loved well and dearly.

Farewell, Pip.