I had set my alarm. I had planned to get up before the household, finish cleaning, and begin prepping the food. As my eyes opened, I pictured him running in fields of grass so green. My heart sunk. He hadn't been feeling well. I had been waking up to check on him. I dreaded the next moments.
There were other times where he had lingered between life and death. He had always pulled through. A champion for our family. He had been there through births, deaths, graduations, moves, sadness, joys. A fixture upon every memory. There he was, making every moment better. He had loved me. He had loved me and my kids with a beautiful faithfulness.
Thanksgiving morning 2015 would change it all, forever.
My heart sunk as the picture in my mind's eye registered the reality of what I dreaded to be true. I had stayed up with him. I had set my alarm to check on him. I had found him in the hallway earlier. I pat his large lovely head. His big tail swooshed. I leaned over him. "It's ok, boy.... It's ok." That would be the last interaction I would have with him while breath still warmed his body.
I fell asleep. I fell asleep, only to wake abruptly twenty minutes later. My heart full of a picture of him running. I knew he was gone. I got up. He had moved only slightly. From the black tile entry way to the carpet. My eyes fell upon him. A quick assessment (avoiding the details for you), one look.. I knew my intuition was right.
My hand fell upon his hardened side. One who had been full of so much warmth was cold.
Older kids would be awoken.
My oldest daughter given the task to keep the younger two busy in their bedroom.
Phone calls and decisions made.
My husband lifting this magnificent being as to transport his body to the animal hospital.
Thanksgiving is a blur. Most of it anyway. But my mother coming up earlier because of the events rolling out, the meal would have been stunted. She kept everything moving forward, she created space for me to nap, to grieve. Food would be served. Our youngest son's heart would give way needing an escape from the meal. He and I would go on a walk. We would feel the fresh air upon our face. We would hold hands. We would walk and walk and walk and walk. He would keep saying, "just to that stop sign," then he would need more time. I was grateful. I needed more time.
Today.. the ache has come and gone. Moments lived only then to remember that he is gone. Reality crashing in.
This evening as I tried to work on editing my book, The Girl Next Door, tears kept streaming down my face. I expect to see his big golden body lying across the living room floor. I expect his head upon my knee to be resting there and for his paw to come up if I dared stopped petting him. He has been the one to absorb the pain of previous losses. Now I just feel lost.
It has been a serious of large losses that have filled this season of life.
A disorientation of sorts fills my soul.
Loss will do that.
Loss upon loss will do that to a depth that takes one's breath away.
Losing Lincoln yesterday won't be the period upon this season either.
Losing Lincoln yesterday puts a tangible marker upon the pain.
Losing Lincoln yesterday takes away my consistent companion through the rest of the journey.
The ache of loss has another step, has more now to the story.
The reality of the journey of this season of life has a lot of disorientation upon it. I listened to my soul. I listened when everything in me was saying, "I can't do this anymore." The last couple years have been the discovery portion of what that meant. In feeling that I needed to allow myself time of discovery to emerge into life, I hadn't realized the immense amount of change that would roll out.
There's this quote attributed to Thomas Merton, If the you of five years ago doesn’t consider the you of today a heretic, you are not growing spiritually.” I think upon that very often these days. The ache and disorientation of loss continues to reverberate through my being at somewhat alarming rates. Losing Lincoln upon this season was just the punch to the gut I didn't need.
He was the consistency. He was the unconditional love. He was the warm welcome on cold, sad days when all that I once knew and held close was gone.
The ache of loss rolls out and today I've felt the world shift and tilt and move.
The ache of loss is real
The ache of loss transforms
The ache of loss grows and dims and lingers
There is beauty and pain and transformation.
There is breath and life and growth and death..
In every season there is a time to grieve and a time to mourn, and there will be a time to dance and sing and celebrate once again.. The two intertwine... It wouldn't be life if they didn't...
I hold close the memories of that first waking moment of Lincoln running upon the greenest grass and know he watches over us all now from a higher place.............
No comments:
Post a Comment