Thursday, June 30, 2016

Indestructible Women My Compass #mirriamstartedit

A little over a week ago a post from Mirriam popped up on my Facebook and blogger feed.

The quote and the post really made me stop and think for several moments. Who are my indestructible women?




Like Mirriam, I chose four, simply because it seemed like a good amount and it fitted what I wanted to say.

These are women who have built me up when I have felt broken down, they have strengthened me when I am in pieces...I am who I am today because of their love....they are my compass.

My North Star,
My Mama is my north star. When I don't know which way to go, or what to do she reminds me of the ultimate goals of life--though we haven't always agreed on the same things, she keeps me true. She keeps me focused, and guides me when I feel lost, I am drawn to her with the magnetic pull of a mother-daughter relationship. She is bright in the sky when things cloud my way, I look up to her as a beautiful example of where I should go and what I should do, of who I can become. Her love has guided me from birth, and I know her example will always hold me pushing towards higher brighter more beautiful things.

My Eastern Sunrise,
Katherine Sophia...Kate...faithful like the sun, bright with hope and renewing when I feel hopeless she shines brightly in my life and keeps me looking for the dawn, even in the midnight moments of my life. When I felt hopeless she threw me a line of hope to cling to, tying our souls together in a forever soul-sister-ship that shall sail straight on 'til the everlasting morn...when I am down she always hold out a hand and pulls me out of my depths, and walks beside me keeping together in step even when our paths separate, we are still together.

My Western Wind,
Ari, like wind, she has challenged me in new ways, she has pushed me forward and made me face things in new ways. But like the wind of a storm, and the wind of the sea, Ari has rocked my boat and she has also blown my worried ship into safe harbors of comfort and rest. Her strength is also her gentleness, she has raged beside me at injustice and pain, and she whispered comfort when I have needed a shoulder to lean on.

 My Southern Spice,
Christi Ella, she is laughter, she is wit, she is brightness and sunny sweet sass and faithfulness  Christi spices up my life with her sense of humor, introduction to snap chat, talented gif conversations, encouraging "little sister," who does cooks off with me, and cheers me on in whatever I do. She looks for the bright side of life, and the funny side of it...even when it's hard to find.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Death

Bridget
 June 15th, 2007- June 19th, 2016
Death.

Recently I experienced death in a whole new way.

Our beloved nine-year-old puppy died unexpectedly. We knew she was ill, but we thought the antibiotics would bring her back to health. I didn't expect to wake up to my little sister's voice urgently saying my name then "Bridget is dead!"
I woke up in a flash.
And took that soft limp body from my sister's arms and into mine, hoping, praying, wanting, wishing, willing that it wasn't true.
I am not sure exactly what happened next but I was kneeling on the bathroom floor wrapping our dog in a towel, trying to practice the dog version of CPR that I'd seen on a video a few months ago. Saying her name, as if that would make the peaceful blank brown eyes suddenly snap back to life, that her tail would wag, and she'd shake the memory of this feeling in my arms away.
Throwing on a coat, I continued dog CPR as we rushed to the vet hospital. The realization that she wasn't responding, that she would most likely never come back sinking in.
I knew she was gone before we reaching the hospital, she was gone before my sister and I woke up, but I stood barefoot on the cold tile floor of the vets  in my pajamas hoping....that what I knew wasn't true.
The vet tech came out and shook her head before she could even ask us what we wanted to do I blurted out that we had a place for her at our house. I couldn't bear the thought of saying goodbye to her at the vet's cold the sterile place...that wasn't Bridget. That wasn't who she was...she couldn't stay there, and more than anything I wanted to hold her once again. I wasn't ready to say goodbye,  This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening to Bridget, our baby...our darling, who had just been cuddling with me the night before. How could she be gone?

Slowly driving home, we were all crying in the car. Shock, grief, disbelief.
I suddenly understood why people wanted clones...why they pay thousands of dollars to ensure someone's survival....
Once at home, we sat crying taking turns holding her.
I felt death taking control, changing her body, turning our cuddly puppy stiff and still forever, and something in me...felt as if it died, the permanence of death was suddenly settling in...and I couldn't hold her anymore, death had taken our puppy away.

Death, as I have always understood it, has come in shiny boxes, dressed in it's best clothes, reserved quiet tears, touching lives that I knew...it was coming for...or it could be expected mostly. I've always been able to say goodbye...and it's a passing twinge of pain.

This is the closest I have felt the pangs of death, a chunk of my life suddenly stolen, a hole that I don't know how to fill...not even with words. There were other complications in my life...that made this more difficult.

Last night...we laid our puppy to rest near the woodpile she used to climb to chase squirrels, under the full strawberry moon of the summer solstice...it was the quietest time of day, the only time of day we could have our privacy away from prying eyes...nosey neighbors, cars driving by...it was quiet. My sister and I tucked little things into the box, not because she needed them...but we needed her to have them for our memories. I tucked in an unpaired sock because she used to steal mine and carry them around the house and even outside, she always picked them up when she wanted something, like being let outside in the morning, it was her bargaining chip to get me out of bed...and it always worked. Suddenly the pyramids in Egypt and the Viking death ships made sense...even though they believed it was for the afterlife. I realize it was more for those who were left behind, these were the things they wanted them to take along...they were going away gifts...a sign of what of what that person meant.

She is gone.

I am learning a lot of things.

How I work through grief.

How my family responds to the same pains.

I am seeing new things.

How God's hand has worked through this whole thing.

It's painful.

It's beautiful.

Death...is a paradox.

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