About a week ago, Violet and I bought a bunch of fish. We wanted ten or maybe even twenty but then the fish-sales-guy did this crazy up-sell and talked us into twenty five. I don’t know how and I don’t know why we agreed but we did and so we have. We got back into our car with a big bag full of fish and as we drove they swam.

The pond has been empty for a while. I’m not an easy repair with a broken heart but when spring started to spring this year I knew it was time. Last month I bared the grief and drained the pond completely. I scrubbed it out and have since attempted to “balance” it and get it ready for new fish life.

I still think about and miss, very much, my best fish-guy and am not the kind of person who likes to replace. I would much rather dwell on how much I miss Fraidy and how no fish could or will ever take that fish-love-spot in my heart. But, this pond is actually just a well-kept mud puddle of standing water when there is no life inside- so.

So, now there are twenty five little fish dudes and dudettes swimming around, trying to find there place in this new home. Like I mentioned briefly in my last post, I have yet to make any new fish friends but I do enjoy seeing that calm and beautiful space filled with flippy, splashy, swimming life.

Just today, just now, I went out there to give the little guys and gals some food and maybe even try to get to know them a bit. As I scattered the fish flakes, all of a sudden, one of the little baby fish came swimming towards me and then very dramatically turned the other direction and splashed away. It reminded me of the way Fraidy would show off in the evenings when I’d get home from work and come to say hello. I then noticed that minus the lipstick-red lips, this little pint-sized baby showoff fish had almost the same markings as Fraidy.

It’s no big deal really,  except that it made me pause and realize, that somehow, somewhere along this way, some repair has happened. And of course, I want these little baby fish to swim and thrive and have the best little fish lives that they can. But beyond that, I am also willing to consider, at the very least, the notion of, the potential to and the possibility of,  loving, differently, again.

 

An old photo of my best-fish-dude, Fraidy Phat the Fish:

 

 

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