I had planned that my blog would be all about the happiness and love of pets to go along with my essay, "Elvis Lives, and He Faithfully Uses His Litter Box", but then life intruded as it so often does. If you read Sheilah’s latest essay, “Conversations With Mom”, then between the tears, you’ve glimpsed the sadness of watching someone you love so very much slip away, and it probably stirred memories of your own losses. Sheilah and I are at different stages of a shared loss. My daddy is still early while her mom is in the late stages. Last weekend, I was blessed to have my parents actually make it all the way here from their home. Momma really wanted to see where we live, and she had never been able to come. She knew leaving him for any stretch of time wouldn’t work either so my older brother was patient enough to bring them, stopping for Daddy as needed. And just as in Sheilah’s essay, he also wondered why they were here, and kept repeating that it was “time to be going”. Time starts to lose all relevance when you remember so little of it.
As in Mary’s essay, “Virtual Reality”, I’ve reconnected with so many dear friends and part of that reconnection has been grieving their losses along with them, and those friends have helped me in celebrations and in grief. Some of our losses have been recent, some less recent, but no less painful, and I am always reminded of the resilience of humanity and the importance of love, and kindness. There is a reason that Dawn wrote, “Grown-up High School Wannabes”. It’s hard to be interested in pettiness and gossip when life consists too much of true reality.
When tragedy strikes, as we’ve all watched occur in Japan, there is often the image or story of some beloved family pet being rescued or sadly the tales of how many have perished, and that can sometimes get more media coverage than the tales of people. Pets are a reminder of how constant love can be, and they somehow know how to sit with us in silence while we grieve. Pets are an innocence that life sometimes seems to no longer possess for us. When my hubby reminds me that after our current crop of two pass away, he doesn’t want another one (usually only mentioned when we want to get away for a weekend, and first I need to make arrangements – note the “I” - he’s not making the arrangements, nor is it hard to find someone), I just nod my head and walk away. Because I also know that he adores both of them. So we’ll have another pet, because the world always needs more love…even in grief.