October 26 2015
There are times in life when you wish you could fall down and not get up. Yesterday was one of those days.. the long awaited Oregon rain ruined by the inconceivably cold, hard reality of an irreplaceable best friend and companion mowed down on a careless country highway, cold and hard.
The loss of a family member is a devastating thing, let alone the loss of two family members. And then there is the loss of a family member who saw you through the first losing.. I am noting to myself the proper spelling of ‘losing’ .. it seems no one knows how to spell anymore..
Some beings are full of light and they share that light with you in your darkest hours. The bulldog embodied that light and more bringing his sweet Boston Terrier charm and intuitiveness to help us through those long days, weeks and years of overwhelming grief and mourning.
The day we picked up the tiny, rat-like puppy followed the worst ordeal of our lives. Purchasing the pup was a reflexive act following the loss of my youngest child’s next-older sibling, taken in a devastating car wreck that also claimed the life of their grandfather. The pup was a living, warm, pitiable being that in the helping, assisted us in keeping our focus on something alive… somewhat that is. It is a gruesome fact that when people leave you in this life, despite the memories that act as placeholders in your heart, there is a deafening, reverberating darkness that sometimes threatens to swallow you whole.
My daughter, then eight, gathered up the scrawny, tiny pup and focused. There is something about the face of a Boston Terrier that endears like no other breed and yet there are those people upon whom the terrier’s charm is lost. I once had a friend who claimed he looked like ‘a bat on steroids’… I will admit that in his more comical moments that opinion wasn’t wholly unjustified, but to Hannah and I he was always beautiful.
As I am writing this I watch the geese flying through the fall sky… my graceful fall and winter companions for nine years, their poignant honking through the cool, crisp air, never fails to take me back to those numb days following the wreck. I watch their beautiful flight against the backdrop of an early morning sky and am amazed at the timing of this current loss, also in October. I don’t ever think of myself as old, but as I notice myself in the mirror this morning.. a day later. I look like a tired, old lady. Tomorrow will be better.