A HEART ON FIRE

 

Today when I came back from my morning walk I was greeted by the Japanese Maple near the front door. I brought it with me in the back seat of our Jeep when we moved from California to Arizona. It was in our garden as a volunteer from the larger mother tree. You watered it many times. It has been a constant reminder to me. Your heart was on fire Kristy. And it has never left me. Happy birthday to one who would have been 46 years old today. We remember you in all your glory and keep your fire in our hearts always. 

KEEP RUNNING JACK

Yesterday our dear beloved dog Jack left this physical realm. I had him for 17 of his 18 years and I strangely thought I was taking care of him. What I now realize is that he was in fact taking care of me. You, Kristy, loved him dearly and were concerned whether he would live a long life. I told you he would. I wanted to keep that promise.

For those of you who did not know who Jack the dog was, he was my constant companion, always following me from room to room and making himself comfortable in various beds scattered throughout the house. He never let me out of his sight. He was not looking for attention. He just wanted to know I was okay. During the last few weeks of his life Jack stopped following me. He watched me from his bed on the couch but could no longer muster the energy to get up. We were devastated at this rapid decline and tried everything to counteract the effect of chronic pancreatitis but to no avail. In the end Jack finally convinced us he was ready to walk on.  Jack had determined I would be okay now. It was his time to go.

Jack - I have been so used to your constant presence and I am only now realizing the enormity of the gift you gave me. 18 years for such a small dog is no small feat. What you gave me is greater than anything I could have expected. You gave me a reason to love and to hope and care. You gave me Kristy every time you looked at me. You gave me comfort. You gave me everything you were. 

I hope you and Kristy are now together, running in that far meadow up in the hills chasing the cows. You can keep running now Jack... and don’t look back. That blinding light that was Kristy is now you as well. And we shall meet again. 

GRIEF vs RESIGNATION

Today, as I think back upon the last 14 years, I am remembering the journey. There was a point in time when I welcomed Grief as it had become a known entity. It was like holding my breath under water and knowing I would have to surface at some point. But the point of extreme Grief can often become an obliteration. A hurt so deep it removes all else; so crippling your mind has to stop and fall to its knees. Eventually you have to stand back up and say enough is enough. It takes a mighty severing of the cord which is not without painful withdrawal. A withdrawal from Grief. How absurd.

After Grief comes Resignation. A type of cold-war agreement. I will behave if you will behave. It’s not a surrender but more like an agreement between two powerful nation-states. I have been careful to keep this agreement. I will no longer surrender to Grief. I now depend on the ceremonial practice of remembering, which always ends in Gratitude. 

Gratitude is a good place to be.