Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Letting Go...




We had to say good-bye to our Siberian husky, Dasha, yesterday. A tumor took up residence in her brain, and the cost to her was too high. She was too noble a creature, too loving of life, to have her days stolen the way they were. 

So we made the hard choice. Held her as the vet performed the horrid act that would set her free. It was the right and best thing to do for her. But how deep the void she has left!

I've struggled with expressing the tumble of emotions roiling through me. This "wordsmith" couldn't find a single syllable to embody the mix of loss and peace, sorrow and relief--relief not for me, but for my sweet Dasha. And then this morning, my husband shows me this note he wrote after we came home from the vet. It's simply beautiful. 

So this is for all who have suffered loss, who have had to make hard decisions and hated the fact that it was necessary. Who know they've done what is right, though that doesn't take away the pain. 

And it's for Dasha, who brought us such joy.
Her life lasted less than 4 years, but oh! How she lived every moment of that time! 

May I face each day with such jubilance. 



From Don...

I have been standing at the edge of a cliff for a very long time. It's a beautiful and desolate place. The view is spectacular. The hues and colors take my breath away. It's painfully beautiful and dangerous standing here looking out over the rim, the balls of my feet on the very edge of forever.
Would the colors be as vibrant, or the air as sweet, if there were a railing in front of me and a pass in my pocket? 

I know my future. I has a purpose blessed by the Creator. Yet I grow tired. I long for a hand on my shoulder that gently turns me and lets me know with certainty that I can rest.

I long for a time I have no memory of.  I long for a time when I was innocent and could have played as a young child.

What is it like to not feel old?  Is it possible to go back and play like a kitten with a ball of string?  Or to fall asleep exhausted from simply being me? The thought makes me weep. I do not know if I weep with anticipation or mourning. But to weep is to be alive.

And to be alive is to feel and to think.

And to think is to decide.

And so...I decide. I choose today with all it brings and tomorrow with all its promise...

Sleep well.



And farewell, Dasha. We love you.