My sister Ramah said there is a last time for everything and usually we don't know it. A last time your child sits on your lap, a last time you tuck them in, a last time you hug your parent. Two weeks ago, I took my four legged comanion and love, Eloise out for, unbeknownst to me, our last walk. We stopped and I took a photograph of the stream which struck me with the decaying leaves underneath and the sun sparkles on top. She passed the next day. I came home and started a watercolor on hot press paper in her honor as a way of processing this grief. I miss her more than words can express and find solace in knowing there is also a first for everything.