I was sleeping soundly when I heard our kitty, Gray-C make the cat barfing sounds she sometimes does, and there in my stupor of sleep, I recalled that I'd cleaned up cat barf just yesterday - twice, and I grew fearful. I'm having pet-loss trauma. When I got these animals for the kids, it didn't occur to me that they'd all go and die eventually. Death was not part of my vision for the happy childhood friends I was adopting.
Ya - the circle of life bla bla bla... And wouldn't you know that it would all converge the week that some loved ones are bonding with their new baby, and the week that Second-born Son is graduating from high school. Graduation. This is an ending, too.
I will grieve when Second-born Son leaves for college in August. I grieved when First-born Son went to college. My heart coiled around itself and knotted tightly. I knew that he'd visit again - but never really come home. They go - all these beloveds that we bond to. The bonding is for their survival - so that we'll attend carefully to them, and positon our lives to hover near-by to offer all the support their development requires. But not to hover over - no - just near-by during the teen-age years. It is a lesson in giving up the all or nothing approach to life.
Bonding deeply with our young children can heal us from our own childhood attachment wounds - open up the pathways for love to enter in, and flow beyond.
And it is finally what matures us - when we can accept and fully embrace them as we let them go. To say that we always hold them in our hearts is literal - not just figurative.
Actually, we hold them in the neurological pathways in our brains, and in the neurons that are in our heart tissue and bowels. The memories are laid down deep in chains of connection at the cellular level.
We bond with our spouses this way, too - but it is not always so pure and uncomplicated.
And we bond with friends who share our lives - especially where there is laughter. And of course, our animal friends too, are mapped out in our neurons and held there in our bodies, so that the loss of them wrenches us, as well - and we grieve. I miss Dexter at 5 p.m. when I used to get his dinner. And I still think I hear him scratching on the door sometimes. I must say that I do enjoy walking freely through the backyard without fear of dog poo. There is something that helps me get over my loss. Some losses are like that. In the absence of the poo, there is a place for gratitude.
Ya - the circle of life bla bla bla... And wouldn't you know that it would all converge the week that some loved ones are bonding with their new baby, and the week that Second-born Son is graduating from high school. Graduation. This is an ending, too.
I will grieve when Second-born Son leaves for college in August. I grieved when First-born Son went to college. My heart coiled around itself and knotted tightly. I knew that he'd visit again - but never really come home. They go - all these beloveds that we bond to. The bonding is for their survival - so that we'll attend carefully to them, and positon our lives to hover near-by to offer all the support their development requires. But not to hover over - no - just near-by during the teen-age years. It is a lesson in giving up the all or nothing approach to life.
Bonding deeply with our young children can heal us from our own childhood attachment wounds - open up the pathways for love to enter in, and flow beyond.
And it is finally what matures us - when we can accept and fully embrace them as we let them go. To say that we always hold them in our hearts is literal - not just figurative.
Actually, we hold them in the neurological pathways in our brains, and in the neurons that are in our heart tissue and bowels. The memories are laid down deep in chains of connection at the cellular level.
We bond with our spouses this way, too - but it is not always so pure and uncomplicated.
And we bond with friends who share our lives - especially where there is laughter. And of course, our animal friends too, are mapped out in our neurons and held there in our bodies, so that the loss of them wrenches us, as well - and we grieve. I miss Dexter at 5 p.m. when I used to get his dinner. And I still think I hear him scratching on the door sometimes. I must say that I do enjoy walking freely through the backyard without fear of dog poo. There is something that helps me get over my loss. Some losses are like that. In the absence of the poo, there is a place for gratitude.
Rosemary,
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written. I see you are gifted with the pen... Nowadays they call it a Blog...not sure why, doesn't sound very appealing. Kinda like stepping on hair balls at three in the morning!
Anywho, wanted to you to know I feel what you are going through on this one...both with the pets and the kids.
Something that has helped me is remembering that we are only stewards, doing our best to raise another's child! (speaking of the kids here, not the ones with the gastronomic surprises...although kids have those too! :) They are His after all. And at some point we have to enrust them to the one that fashioned them in His mind eons ago..not to a cruel and hostile world, but to their true Father who is immeasurably more able to "finish" their rearing than I and my spouse are. It is almost a comfort, even a relief knowing that He will be looking out for them from here on out. Not that we won't miss cuddling with them on the couch, or tickle wars, or even helping them wrap their minds around the nature of life & death...all precious moments, and dearly precious to the One who made us both.
And don't forget, they never really leave...they are always a part of us going forward. They actually take us with them in a way, as they are half me & half my spouse expressing itself in the world...All under the One who guides us all.