White Dog rested quietly against my side and let me cry. The day after is always hardest on me; that is when the realization that it wasn't a dream sets in. The Nilla greeting and routine were not needed and the extra time in the morning drove home that those empty moments were our new "normal." I struggle between wanting to tidy up but am not ready for the finality of things, hers, disappeared. White Dog gently whispers, "Not yet, momma. Leave those things be. We all need more time." She redirects me by suggesting that we look at photos and celebrate our extraordinary girl. She says that is energy better spent...seeing Nilla's most beautiful smile and her gentle personality.