Woo is right! So happy it is Friday! We apologize for our brief absence as this past week was indeed an emotionally heavy one of sorting through stored boxes of my mother's and my husband's father's things, both of whom passed away recently - my mom two years ago and my father-in-law just this past October (and today would have been his 90th birthday). For me, it was impossible to go through my mother's things before now. She was my first and lifelong best friend, an amazing mother and grandmother to my daughter, my confidante, my support system, my cheerleader, and my therapist. Accepting she is physically gone, has been, well, too painful. Now, however, it is starting to become a familiar warm feeling to see her handwriting, and even that of my father (who has been passed 44 years now) on cards, letters, and photos that were saved amongst her personal items. I let the familiar scripts and memories of my younger days wash over me, and instead of feeling the pain of loss, I tried to focus on all the amazing and happy memories that made up my early childhood. Many of which in my early years consisted of visiting the seashore every weekend over the summer during school break with my mother, maternal grandmother, cousins, and aunt. Looking at the old photos does not sadden me now, but rather fills me with a warm contentment--to know that I was fortunate enough to have those wonderful, loving times. Now, trying not to be sad, well, that is not an easy task. However, trying hard to shift out of sadness, I am left with feeling a bit closer to my family I have now lost to time, and try to embrace all of it into my present and future. But boy, I sure do miss those carefree days of childhood when loss was only something we related to missing toys.
|Wolf's first visit to the beach.|
All these carefree times were so beautiful to watch and equally beautiful to recall. I have to sigh as how the scene so quickly changes in the lifespan of a dog. Gibson has now moved on to the Rainbow Bridge. Our Harley is now our "golden" deaf alpha queen at age 13, and the "Pupsters" are newbie seniors at age 10. The wild carefree young days of running has now quieted down to periodic bursts of Husky play intertwined with spurts of energetic yard exploration, but mainly are now spent in hours of posing and snoozing on their deck beds. I just learned today that a friend's "pup" who was in the vet hospital at the same time as our Pupsters for spaying/neutering back when they all were truly puppies, has just passed from the same type of cancer that stole Gibson from us. We all paused to realize that the very short span of a beloved pet is a decade of our own lives. All we can do is embrace the moments that make up the memories, and enjoy each one as it happens, while hoping for many more to come.
The following is a poem I wrote many years ago that was a favorite of my grandmother's. I thought it was a perfect time to share an excerpt from it here for our memories of yesteryear are all about family, including our beloved pets. I hope you enjoy it!