Lucia . . . the Love of My Life
AN ABYSS OF SILENCE
Losing a loved one, whether human or “furry”, the devastation and grief takes the same toll. . . you seem to fall into an abyss of sadness, sometimes despair and disbelief, and always excruciating pain. Climbing out is not an easy task . . . my mom’s death in 2008 was the greatest loss, and every best friend that has gone to the “bridge” has made me relive the pain. Those of you who follow my blog about the dogs, understand how my work and life is tied to them on a spiritual level. Losing Lucia has literally knocked the wind out of my sails . . . I can hardly stand to put one foot in front of the other.
Yesterday was the first full day without Lucia on this plane of existence. There is so much that I want to say about how special our relationship was . . . but that will come later. I became concerned that the others were grieving her and picking up on my sadness, so instead of rushing to do chores, I took the time to have them all in the big play yard, while I sat in a chair in the sunshine and gently breeze and watched them romp and play, and always running back to check on me.
Not everything I write gets posted on my blog . . . I have a beautiful journal that I use for my private thoughts. I pulled it out yesterday because I felt that my thoughts about Lucia needed to be there.
As I paged through it, I realized that the last entry was dated Dec. 30, 2009 . . . It was the first anniversary of my mom’s death, and I had lost Nicky only 3 months earlier.
But what struck me as most amazing was that the last word of the last entry was, “Lucia.” I don’t believe in coincidences . . I had been getting messages from her all day . . . and to me, this was a validation..
A life is a life, regardless of species . . . it’s energy that is only transmuted and not destroyed. A soul is a soul . . . our best friends send us messages “from the other side” all the time, and actually, dogs are much better at it than humans. The connection does not end.
I want to share this message from a dear friend, whose love and wisdom i cherish. It was these words that she spoke to me yesterday that helped me take the first step out of that dismal abyss . . . ” It takes a great deal of courage and a world of heart to love a being that we know going in will probably not outlive us. Yet, to miss this glorious time would be much more of a tragedy”
Yes, love takes courage. And it takes just as much courage to believe what is in your heart, to not doubt those “special messages”, and continue to believe what you cannot see or maybe understand.
Most of my memories of Lucia are written in my special, private journal . . . a place where Lucia and I have our conversations. It has been a big step in helping me heal my heart to some extent, at least enough to be able to function. The following is written by Martin Scott Kosins and has been freely shared on the internet, so I am sharing it here because I think it rings true for anyone who has lost a loving pet. I think the three days he mentions are indeed memorable, but if we’re wise enough to live in the moment with our pets, we have many more of those significant days. Cherish every minute they are willing to give you . . . they are gone from this plane of existence much too soon.
(If you cannot open the video on this site, you can access it at this link: “Loving Lucia” )
A Living Love (by Martin Scott Kosins)
If you ever love an animal, there are three days in your life you will always remember….
The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring home your new friend.
You may have spent weeks deciding on a breed. You may have asked numerous opinions of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder. Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that silly looking mutt in a shelter–simply because something in its eyes reached your heart. But when you bring that chosen pet home, and watch it explore, and claim its special place in your hall or front room–and when you feel it brush against you for the first time–it instills a feeling of pure love you will carry with you through the many years to come.
The second day will occur years later. It will be a day like any other.
Routine and unexceptional. But, for a surprising instant, you will look at your longtime friend and see age where you once saw youth. You will see slow deliberate steps where you once saw energy. And you will see sleep when you once saw activity. So you will begin to adjust your friend’s diet–and you may add a pill or two to her food. And you may feel a growing fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a coming emptiness. And you will feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until the third day finally arrives.
And on this day–if your friend and fate have not decided for you, then you will be faced with making a decision of your own–on behalf of your lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest Spirit. But whichever way your friend eventually leaves you–you will feel as alone as a single star in the dark night. If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often as they must. And if you are typical, you will find that not many in your circle of family or friends will be able to understand your grief, or comfort you. But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through the many joy-filled years, you may find that a soul–a bit smaller in size than your own–seems to walk with you, at times, during the lonely days to come. And at moments when you least expect anything out of the ordinary to happen, you may feel something brush against your leg–very very lightly.
And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps dearest, friend used to lay–you will remember those three significant days. The memory will most likely to be painful, and leave an ache in your heart–As time passes the ache will come and go as if it has a life of its own. You will both reject it and embrace it, and it may confuse you. If you reject it, it will depress you. If you embrace it, it will deepen you. Either way, it will still be an ache.
But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when–along with the memory of your pet–and piercing through the heaviness in your heart–there will come a realization that belongs only to you. It will be as unique and strong as our relationship with each animal we have loved, and lost. This realization takes the form of a Living Love–like the heavenly scent of a rose that remains after the petals have wilted, this Love will remain and grow–and be there for us to remember. It is a love we have earned. It is the legacy our pets leave us when they go. And it is a gift we may keep with us as long as we live. It is a Love which is ours alone. And until we ourselves leave, perhaps to join our Beloved Pets–it is a Love we will always possess.