"And I was going to ask, 'how's Chuckles', but no.." My daughter's voice trails off. "It's ok, it's totally ok to ask honey," I respond, not wanting her to feel bad. At 29 my oldest lives on the other side of the country, but she somehow almost feels my inner most thoughts on some subjects. Grief over having to put our dog down, an act I still ponder with disbelief, is almost a daily guest. "I go outside, or sometimes just stop what I'm doing. And I talk to him. And I always cry on queue," I say, remembering doing just that the day before. "Awww," she replies, with a tone that locks in understanding without the use of many words. If I threw a deck of cards on the floor, and observed the unorganized display that these days would be my emotions, I'd save the Queen of Hearts for Grief. "Let's Take The Long Way Home-a memoir of friendship" is the trophy book of grief expressed with a quiet dignity I ca...