Early August....Puma, the most special of my three cats, was diagnosed with an aggressive form of bone cancer. Dealing with a terminally ill animal necessitated a multitude of schedule changes to accommodate an unpleasantly familiar routine, which featured:
a very bad prognosis, weeping, many costly trips to our wonderful vet, more weeping, and pointless efforts to keep a stiff upper lip during the weeks preceding our Sad March to the Inevitable. We supported Puma with pain medicine, cancer medicine and lots of lap time until we knew that the hurting had gotten bigger than the happy.
The experience ripped open the "just barely kinda sorta starting to heal" hole in my heart left by the loss of Rosie nine months ago. The wound became very fresh again, which was a bitch.
I cried really, really hard.
[ Note: when my kids were small and clamored for stories of my youth, they particularly enjoyed the ones that ended with my saying...."I cried really, really hard." Go figure. Sadists, all.]
Mid August.... was all about creating a special gift for my baby girl, who was heading off to college, coupled with pretending that Puma was not sick. A dying cat and the youngest leaving home.
Ouch.
I cried really, really hard.
The bright spot...a visit from my dear friend from Arizona, Monica... for a much needed frenzy of felting and fellowship.
Late August....Happy Birthday! My daughter was safely delivered to her dorm and a week later I turned 50. How embarrassing..I get to have Mid Life Crisis on top of everything else......
I cried really, really hard.
Early September...A faulty air conditioner and defective shut off switch resulted in a serious leak and substantial damage to the kitchen porch. This is not to be confused with the ceiling that crashed into my laundry room because of an unrelated roof issue. Sigh. It got worse....Sweet Puma joined Rosie in the pet cemetery on September 8.
Yup...I cried really, really hard.
Unfortunately, there was a final gut punch. Yup, a Big Ole Piece of FU Pie was dished up immediately thereafter---Trixie, my smiling Finnish Spitz, died unexpectedly two days after we lost Puma.Unfriggingbelievable! I hadn't even put away the shovel! Trixie joined her pals in the dirt. Say it with me, everyone....
I cried...really, really, really, REALLY hard.
WTF????? I mean, SERIOUSLY! I felt like I was losing my Happiness Mojo. I was definitely not ready for the burgeoning population in my not-yet- finished Pet Cemetery. You see, several months before Rosie died, I started to build a little pet cemetery on my property. I was working through the whole death thing and it was important to me that I create a special area for her. Although I buried her in the spot I had picked, I have been unable to create the garden I had envisioned.... I simply haven't been able to "go there," emotionally. I would look at the cold , barren spot of dirt in the yard and vow to get on it, but each time I tried, I found that I just could not do it. The yard looked awful and I hated that I had left it incomplete. Rosie deserved more and now I had two more little lumps in the dirt. I was guilt ridden and disappointed in myself for not PUSHING THROUGH IT, but I cut myself some slack, figuring that I would be ready when I was ready.
Mid September
Fifteen hours after I buried Trixie, I left town, drained and sad, despite the fact that my husband and I were heading for a dream vacation in Italy. The weird juxtaposition of it all was totally surreal, but proved to be just what I needed. We have never had an opportunity to go away for such an extended period, so it was a real treat to decompress together. We were the lucky beneficiaries of a wonderful gift...a family vacation aboard a luxury ship, cruising the coast of Italy to celebrate the 88th birthday of my generous Mother-in-Law, Eileen. It was a spectacular trip that was filled with the "good stuff" of family at its best---laughter, conviviality, shared history and ...most important for me at this time....a bit of healing.
Life ebbs and flows. It is all part of the bigger cycle....children grow up to create their own version of a happy life, treasured pets die too young, and if you are lucky...88th birthdays are celebrated with joy and delight. In the big picture, it's all good. I revel--truly revel--in my many blessings. All that being said, it has been a real bitch of a few months. Thank goodness for the opportunity to regain perspective--I am much happier living in a state of grace---appreciative rather than anxious, laughing rather than crying.
My Mojo is back!
I am happy to report that I spent the entire week-end working in Rosie's Garden! I was ready to tackle it, at long last.
It felt good...kind of like I am still taking care of the sweet little gang resting there....I thought happy Rosie/Puma/Trixie thoughts and was at peace while I set about creating a pretty space for them. I still have a way to go....some additional plantings (the flower kind, not the animal kind, I hope!), cementing in the small granite walls, and a bit of brick work...but I am not afraid of it anymore. Rosie's Garden has become a place of Tranquility rather than Sorrow. I'm BACK and it feels really, really good.
PRODUCT GIVEAWAY!