the art of healing
There is an art to healing
It isn’t to be rushed, no quick sand transformation
Nor is it like drudging in the mud
Though both may be fractions to the full circle
Sand and mud mixed together thicken, taking shape
There is an art to feeling
That begins with “I”
And ends with us
A name appears in the shape of the sand mud mush
Grief, perhaps
Though I called it “fine”
A response to everyone’s “How are you feeling?”
“Good” even
Because it was expected, planned even
That’s the thing about putting a dog down
It’s scheduled in your day planner
A date with death
I laid my head on his head as he took his last breath
I inhaled his final exhale
His heart stopped and mine suddenly hurt
Sharp and dull
Everything silent
Life is passing
I wrapped his body in blue fabric
His eyes
My color
I wiped his feces so he could leave with dignity
The friend who picked him up with me from the adoption agency carried him to the car
I opened the vets silver Honda Accord door and this mystical husky squeezed lifeless into the back seat
If you’re a writer, and your dog was your quiet best friend, providing atmospheric accountability, walking breaks and a furry nose to kiss
How do you write again
Without his head framed by the window body rising and falling on your bed
Without the sound of him jumping off the second the knife hits the cutting board
There is an art to being
The last night we spent pacing together
I sung the Summertime tune with a different set of lyrics
I will love you, til the end of time
I will love you
We fell asleep when our bodies were both humming
The morning after, I danced barefoot on the exact place his body was laid to rest
Every moment a ritual
But no I am not fine
I am in the middle
Somewhere in that bittersweet space that has no words only moment to moment presence
Saturday joyous
Tuesday angry
By sundown numb
Friday sad
The night after, during dinner with a friend,
I was dressed to the nines for Boots
She had no idea
Two tickets to a dance show at Joyce
And the first thing she says is,
“You look great, healthy.”
Not so different from Charolette complimenting Samantha at Miranda’s wedding in Sex and the City
“Samantha you’re glowing,”
“Thanks, I have cancer.”
Funny how death shines light onto life
In that moment, I realized I no longer felt physical symptoms I had for over a month
Both my dog and I were taking medication for a UTI, yet my symptoms continued after the antibiotic, and his kidney disease and brain tumor couldn’t be cured
We’d both get up in the middle of the night to frequently pee
We’d both be irritable and in pain
And just like that, hours after he passed, I felt nothing
Not the highly uncomfortable physical sensations I had everyday for weeks
After seeing 3 doctors and trying multiple treatments, all discomfort disappeared like magic
Love gets you into the symbiotic relationship
And once stress tips, love gets you out
I still talk to him every time I open or close the front door
His hair in a charm sits in the nape of my neck
Yesterday instead of being with a group of friends
I wish I was with him writing at home in our soft reassuring silence
I’ve been in countless relationships
But no one
No one
Taught me commitment like Boots
There is art to loving and who would have thought a dog would be my ultimate Paton passing me on to partnership
My last words
As his heart slowed to stop
My last unspoken words
You gave me peace of mind, may you be at peace
You gave me peace of mind, may you be at peace
You gave me peace of mind, may you be at peace
Today with spring on the rise, I planted seeds in his honor
Added compost to where he use to pee when he couldn’t wait
There’s no set of instructions for dealing with death
Yet the interesting thing about loss is I’ve been there before
And I’ll be here again
What’s different with this heartbreak, is nothing broke
Love circles like I did two days after
Around and around the kitchen island like Boots would for food
Circling three times before lying down
The art of healing
Around and around we go