the best kindness

Saturday, May 3, 2008

the girl and her boy avec les sticks last summer

Took a fairly impromptu (which means only planned for several days in advance) trip to town yesterday for a quick big shop. Mostly kitty litter and cat food. But also a few in town treats for myself like baby arugula, my favourite bagels, minneola tangerines and a small bottle of patchouli oil to add to my bath side collection of essential oils, drops of scent to add to my hot bubbles. I was back before lunch and back at my desk once again drawing jewellery for my new big fish customer.

Had an email yesterday, from a good friend Val, who's miniature Dachshund Frankie turned 13 yesterday. A milestone as Frankie was diagnosed with cancer this past year ... but she's hanging in there, rulin' the roost with her two sista dogs Daisy a German short-haired Pointer and Irene another little Dachshund. She sent me lots of photos of her pack of sweet & happy kissing loving dogs.

I wrote her back a congratulations and Happy Birthday to Miss Francesca ! and expressed my lingering heartache for my own joy dog- Jake. The guilt I still feel for ending his life even though I do know that it was really the only choice. I will never quite get over making that decision, and I will remain haunted by those last few seconds - it will always feel like it was someone else who made that decision .. because it couldn't possibly have been me ... I guess that's the part that's haunting.

She's not someone I have to hide these feelings from, she's another friend who welcomes my sadness & grief. Who knows me well and loves me enough to know that all this sadness must come out. I can't keep it all inside and oh how good it feels to share it with someone, to cry with someone. Of course other than Miss Dixon that is - who is always the most excellent comfort.

We emailed back and forth a few times and in Val's last email she sent me this

Hope you don't mind, but I took my favorite poem and changed the words around a little for you. If Jake were able to write on his own, this is what I think he'd say:

Do not sit by my bed and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand ocean waves
from the memories of our walks, that you save.
I am the sunlight on golden wheat
And the fried chicken smell of furry feet.
I am the sound of spring's gentle rain
And I wish you free of this sadness & pain.
When you awaken early each morn,
There is no need to be forlorn,
For I am with you through each day,
And from your side I will not stray.
I still lay my head on our pillow at night,
And with you I float on Dream's airy flight.
Do not look at my bed and cry;
I am right here. I did not die.

Love and hugs from someone you can cry to.
~ Valerie

How sweet and kind is that. Thank you Val.

lobster boats, stillness, birds and a madly purring Bleetness- are the sounds from 29 Black Street this early morning.

1 comment:

  1. Val's poem is lovely. I'm glad you shared that this morning.


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