Things have come to a bit of a screeching halt lately. I have tried to write several times but the words float above me and just like a little kid jumping up to grasp ripe fruit in the trees any words that make sense are just out of my reach.
It began with Hazel. She was the emaciated dog who had sacrificed herself to feed her puppies, she was saved from death row by Recycled Doggies, fostered and showered with love by Lindsey but she had given all she had to save her pups and she slipped away quietly being held and loved as she took her last breath, maybe for the first time ever. My decision to foster one of Hazel’s pups happened lightning fast and was made with little thought when it became clear to me there was no other option. I have learned not to question the path so much, not to seek the answers out so intently but to follow what feels right for myself, and what feels right for those in the world around me and to do what is needed, even if it’s not my own need.
I named him Norman, and he burst into my life with his mother’s eyes and long, gangly Marmaduke legs. His sweet shenanigans remind me to breath, when I sometimes forget.
The act of breathing can seem like more of an expedition to the top of Mt. Everest without canisters of oxygen than simply the presence or absence of aspiration. What is it about this time of year I find so very cruel? Amidst the garland and stuffed turkeys, the joyful hymns, and two eyes made out of coal is another year of wondering if I cross her mind at all, if the walls close in and sadness comes to pull her down into the same sorrow. I fight and fight to pull ahead just far enough to convince myself I am winning. It feels like a losing battle and that loss follows me around, clinging to my every move like the pup who continues to look for his momma long after she has gone.
These are hard days, and I feel the loss in a different way lately but I know it will pass and I will find my way. Remembering how far I have come, remembering to love myself even when I look in the mirror and I am not quite sure who it is staring back at me.