I've also had the honor of working on an old friend's book, although I've had to put it on the back burner the last month. He is 90 years old, and this book that I'm editing will be a compilation of photographs that he's gathered to himself all of these years. It's a wonderful collection and it's been a great journey for me to be a part of it.
I had to put another of my animals to sleep a couple of weeks ago, and it's made me feel very quiet. I'm not one who makes it a habit to speak when I have nothing to say, but this time I found I had too much to say, and so was ironically rendered speechless. She was old by any standard, she was my mare, and she was ill and she was suffering, and so it was time, but, as always with the four-leggeds, their lives are not as long as yours and so at some point you will surely suffer heartbreak in return for all of the love they have given so easily to you. The price of love is grief, the owner of Barbero said, and they were eloquent words in their simplicity.
And so I will begin to write, perhaps to share my chapters of my fiction novel I plan to finish following my friend's photo book. But for now, I just need to be a little quiet, just a little longer.
