Wednesday, October 5

Dearest Sophie,

You have been gone for over two years and I have felt lost ever since. it has been longer still since I wrote anything on this page. I miss you terribly. Poet often when she is sad or does not get her way she brakes in to tears and starts crying about longing for home " our old hill mama, with Sophie and grace, Tolstoy and the garden were you cooked and we picked wild flowers.." she would sob and my throat would immediately feel like I swallowed a crater, I would do anything to hold back tears but eventually I would cry along side of her holding her and somehow my tears would quiet her tears, we would wipe them and promise to find our forever house soon. Our second hill was the forever house she wanted, wanted even after finding out about mold and agreeing with the  Trust that it would be fixed, we went ahead and made an offer that was accepted. Oh Sophie I thought about you, grace and Tolstoy there ont the hill Just waiting or us to return, 'to make it safe for Poet to return" but that agreement was filled with Tolmach Trust toxic mold lies, betrayal and greed the kind that can not be fixed.

Sophie, the very moment you died, the phone rang that phone call led to a new life, but a life I wanted before and somehow confused as I purchased if I wanted it still. It turned our lives upside down, aging me a decade, questions every morsel of who I am something I never once questioned- I knew who I was from the age of five after my small body and my small spirit was ripped from me like so many little girls, I had resolved there and then siting in the apple tree who I would never be somehow I knew and kept hold it till two years ago when while burning croissants, canelles and bouchons and watching my body brake down from exhaustion I realized I no longer had a clue on who I was. Oh Sophie sometimes I think you would hate me know, this person, I have become.

Yet, here I am trying hard to get back to her, to find her or trace the steps back to when I last saw her, when I last felt in my own shoes. 

My dearest Sophie I have promised others to write here and although this letter is filled with melancholy, I can see the lights come through the cracks....a self made promise to find her again.

**** Dear Readers and Bloggers please leave a comment below if you would like to join our blog circle that way we can begin to follow you and when you post we will be able to see!

thank you for being here, I am a work in progress.


Anonymous said...

Wow such a lifetime ago I found you here! I’m not even sure how to log back into mine (chrisi @

Anonymous said...

Dearest Nadia, I have been waiting a very long time for you to post again here. Sometimes I go back and reread many of your posts from years ago. So much has changed, yet so much remains the is so damning and grand at the same time that way. I no longer have a blog, but this idea has sparked a new interest in me to restart one. Sometimes when I feel lost or unsure, I just throw it all in and delete and walk away, such as I did with my original Instagram account. I look forward to seeing other people post too. You will find your way, you always have. 🖤

Anonymous said...

So lovely to have you back at this!

Ariane Reichardt said...

Dear Nadia,
I know your gentle photos and deep feelings you are sharing here for a long time. One can follow lives begin and lives go and on and on... yes, there is light between the cracks, but even in your beautiful photos and between your lines. Wonderful!
You've made me start blogging again, thank you. My blogpost at rose is renaissance today.

Love, Ariane.Rose

Liz Woodbury said...

One of the things I've found so hard about growing older is the feeling that by now I should know myself 100%, I should be finished, no longer a work in progress. The other women around me seem so certain! And sometimes I do too, but I'm constantly reminded that we're always growing, always changing. Everything is changing - life is change. And there's nothing like losing a dog of your heart to remind you of this. Sophie would love you no matter who you are, what you're doing, how you're feeling. You know she would — that is one of the beautiful things about dogs and one of the reasons it hurts so terribly to lose them.

Also, I am very happy to see you back here. xo

Vinothini said...

This is Vinothini from

Looking forward to your posts