I Remember

I remember that morning.  It was a beautiful clear day.  The sun was shining.  It was warm.  I was sitting at my desk when my boss came out of his office and said “We are going to war”.  Everyone came out of their offices asking why and he told us that a plane crashed into one of the world trade center buildings or that a bomb had gone off.  Those details are hazy. 

I tried to get on the internet and bring up CNN, to see what I could find out.  I turned on my radio.  Then the plane flew into the second building.  And I sat there, not knowing what was going on, thanking God that my family was safe and my heart wringing itself over the families in pain and all of those souls gone in an instant. 

I remember trying to get in touch with someone and not being able to and hoping he hadn’t traveled to the city. 

I remember the feeling of helplessness and just sitting there, refreshing my screen, waiting for news sites to update, catching horrific stories of people trapped, of people jumping, of dust and smoke filled streets making the city change in an instant from life to some other-world that shouldn’t have been there. 

We worked the day as best we could.  When I got home I held my daughter, only eleven at the time, and tried to water down the details for her.  I didn’t want her to know evil, not yet, and I didn’t want her to be afraid of something she had no control over, like I was. 

In the face of great tragedy “I love you” is said easier, hugs are abundant, and people are more attuned to others’ pain.  In the days that followed tears flowed easy as news reports added more names to the list of those taken from us.  Tears flowed as others were rescued, though not nearly enough.  As dust cleared, a steel cross rose from the ashes as if by some miracle and brought some peace. 

As more details became known, tears and sorrow turned to anger and the country rallied.  It would not bring back the passengers and crew on that plane in Pennsylvania.  It wouldn’t bring back the victims in New York City.  It brought America together, united, at least for a while.  People were nicer, smiling, taking the time to say hello, how are you?, and actually listening to the answer.  Great tragedy brings people together before it tears them apart. 

I remember that morning, sitting at my desk, tears streaming down my face and thinking the world will never be the same again.  And it wasn’t.  It never was again.

Just A Dream

     This morning, as I opened my eyes, trying not to look at the alarm clock, I realized that I was outside and it did not surprise me.  I was in my bed in a field of wild flowers.  The field was surrounded by cattails and reeds.  The dainty white, pink and blue flowers swayed in the gentle morning breeze.  Peaceful.  I could spend the day here, I thought.  

     Then, to the right of me, I noticed movement in the reeds.  A great blue heron was standing among them, so thin and regal.  I gazed at it through half closed lids when it came to life and opened its great wings and hopped into flight to land on my bed and squawk up to my pillows to wake me up.  

     Wake me up thoroughly, it did.  I sat up quickly and once in position I realized I was clearly in my own bed, in my own room, staring at the dirty clothes on the floor.  The same job, the same chores, the same worries facing me.  The same grind.  At least I have the memory of it to sustain me today.

Weird Feelings...

     The last several days I've had the strangest feeling.  Every so often the hair on my head feels like it is standing up.  Why it does this I do not know, although I have my theory.  I'm being visited.  By a dead relative or friend.  My question is why?  Why aren't they coming in a dream?  Is there a message or is this just a way to let me know they are near?  Is this a warning?  Is something going to happen and I need to know that there is something more?  It's been the last two days.  I don't know if I should be worried or comforted.
     Then I start wondering, if it is a spirit then who is it?  Is it my dad?  Is it Jack?  Is it Bill?  Is it my nana?  Is it my dog that I had put down ten years ago?  I just thought of that.  Maybe he's come to make the transition for Sky easier and he's just nudging me to let me know it's ok.  Maybe.  I don't know.  
     All I know is that I like the idea of an afterlife and coming to visit to help out or just be a presence.  I hope it's true.  I hope they are there - all of them.  My cats, my dogs, my people.  I hope I get to see them all again someday.  Not soon, unless they choose to visit me in dreams, but someday.

Jack's Flag

     On my walk today I detoured by Jack's on Goodrich Street.  Every once in awhile I walk by there.  Last week there was a deer out back on his neighbor's lawn.  Today there was a yard sale. 
     There were a lot of old things so I stopped, thinking I might find something of his, maybe lost in his attic til now.  I asked the woman taking the money and she said that no, none of it belonged to him.  She asked me why and I told her that Jack was a very good friend and that when he passed I never received anything and I didn't realize that there had been an auction to get rid of his belongings. 
     She told me to wait, then opened his garage.  His flag was rolled up and in the rafters.  His flag.  Not one that he carried into battle or was draped on his coffin, but the flag he had been flying on his house.  She got it down for me and as she placed it in my hands she told me she had felt him in the house.  She felt that he had been a good person.  I assured her, through my tears, that he was. 
     Just the other day I was talking to D about how much I still missed Jack and how I wished I had something, besides memories, of him.  We agreed that the memories were enough.  Today, I believe that Jack decided that maybe I could have a little bit more. 
     Thank you Jack.  I miss you and love you.  I know what that flag means to you, and I am honored to care for it for you. 

The Start of Goodbye

            It’s happening.  We’ve been waiting for it and knew the time was coming.  Our old girl, Sky, is feeling her age.  This morning we woke up to pitiful cries coming from the living room.  D usually gets up with the dogs, and it’s been getting earlier and earlier.  I told him this morning (at 4:30am) to put in his ear plugs and wait until five.  They need to learn one just does not get up at the crack of dawn when one goes to bed AFTER dark.  So he gets up at five (4:55) and goes downstairs to find our girl in a mess of pain.

Sometimes I feel like such an ogre. 

So he gives her an aspirin, lets them out, feeds them and then later comes upstairs to tell me that she is really sore.  We know that this has been coming.  She’s been very stiff in her hind legs for a while now and when she walks up steps her hind end actually hops.  Luckily she doesn’t have to use steps all the time.

She’s been incontinent off and on, and we know it’s not behavioral.  Last night she lost control and pooped a little in the house.  I told him when I went upstairs to bed.  We know this isn’t good and this is finally what prompted me to have my old dog, Jack, put down.  Not because I didn’t want to clean up messes – I would have forever, if he was happy, if his quality of life was good.  But he wasn’t happy and he was hanging around for me.  It was the hardest decision I ever made. 

Now the decision belongs to D.  Sky is his dog.  All I can do is let him know of my experiences.  I’ve had dogs and cats all my life.  Sky is his first dog and from the way she looks at him I believe she absolutely adores him. 

When I came downstairs to get ready to leave for work she got up and walked out to the kitchen to see me.  Her legs were so much stiffer than I’ve ever seen them and I was afraid she was going to fall over.  D wondered if maybe there were pills the vet could give her to make her comfortable, but I think a cortisone shot will make a difference.  He wonders if it’s his fault she has lost her muscle tone and is so frail.  I told him that some old dogs get fat, some lose weight, but they all get old and this is normal.  I told him it wasn’t his fault.  She cannot stay a puppy forever, no matter how little gray she sports. 

We’ve been lucky to have her as long as we have.  We know she is between 12 and 14 years old.  She was hit by a car when she was a puppy and within the last several years her back legs hurt when she exercises too much.  She loves to swim but she won’t stop once she’s in the water.  She’ll cry as she paddles but she won’t get out.  And she’ll bite at the bubbles until her tummy fills with water.  It breaks our hearts to keep her out of the water, but she’s so obsessive compulsive we can’t let her in for fear we won’t get her out.

If only they all went peacefully in their sleep.  I held a cat once while he was dying.  His lungs were filling up with fluid and there was nothing I could do but hold him and talk to him and pray it went quickly for him.  His family had abandoned him and he adopted me.  I never want to lose another animal like that.  I never want her to feel helpless and in pain and not in control of herself. 

 

This will be a hard summer of saying goodbye.  I hope we do her justice and make her as comfortable as she can be and I hope when the time comes he will know it was the only decision he could make for her.  And that it was the right decision.

 

 

PAD Day 30 - Bury the _____

Bury the Past

I wish I could walk away and not look back,

this life you lead is totally whack. 
Get your life together, so we can be friends,

if it stays like this,

well, it has to end.

PAD Day 29 - Nobody Knows

Thought to Action

When he died I thought “Oh shit”,

I did it. 

All those years, I had been saying I hoped he would die,

life would be so much easier. 

I wondered if I could make it happen, like I did when I was 17, and just kidding around,

spoke those words several times, “I hope you die a violent death”. 

Just kidding at the time, never meant it, I loved them both. 

Then at the beginning of summer they were gone, dead in a tragic car accident

– or was it? 

An accident, I mean. 

Did I cause that? 

And then he died, nearly twenty years later, my mantra echoing in my ears

– life would be so much easier if he would just die. 

It is my secret power,

to wish someone dead,

and for it to come true.