Well, the storms came at 3 am, and the dog was whatever is hysterical squared. He wanted to lie on my head, which didn't work at all. He was so scared he was trembling all over. Around 4:30 I gave him some Benadryl; he did much better after that. Pollen counts went through the roof yesterday - between that and all the dog-dander commotion, I ended up taking Benadryl too. We got back to sleep around 5:30 and slept until 8. We're both tired now. From now on I'll give him Benadryl when a storm starts - there's no need for him to suffer like that, poor creature.
I read something today from St. John Chrysostom about death, that I knew you'd love:
"Where miracles are, tears have no place. Certainly not in the celebration of such a mystery. In the case of our dead, a great mystery is happening. Angels are present, commissioned from Heaven, sent from the King Himself to call their fellow-servant; and I ask you, Do you weep? Do you not know what a mystery it is that is taking place, how awful, how dread, and worthy indeed of hymns and praise?. For it is a very great mystery of the Wisdom of God. As if leaving the dwelling, the soul goes forth, speeding on her way to her own Lord, and do you mourn? Why, then you should mourn the birth of a child; for this in fact is also a birth, and a better one than that. For as the sun arises, clear and bright, so the soul leaving the body with a clear conscience, shines joyously. Think what the soul must then be, in what amazement, what wonder, what delight!"Isn't it wonderful? That is a good reminder for me. I've known all along that my tears are for me, not for you. I'm glad for you - I just want to join you as soon as I can. Save me a seat!
Love you always,