The High Cost of Loving

I sat still in the back yard yesterday and memories of Andre flooded my consciousness.

We had "cat proofed" our yard these past few years so he could come out with us and enjoy the great outdoors on his own terms, within the confines of our yard.

I remembered...

The (many) times he escaped our back yard when he was young and feisty.
The time he got "treed" by some crows (he climbed up into a tree and they were swooping down on him and quite disturbed by this black critter in their tree).
Snuggled up on the lawn swing, just enjoying the sun and whoever may have been around.
Hidden and camouflaged in the underbrush of our lilac bush.
Soaking up the sun. Right up until the end of his days.
I was suddenly grateful that he was given the gift of "one last spring" to unwrap with us.

I sat quietly with my thoughts and I revelled in how absolutely lucky I felt. I had no regrets.

Andre was adored. He was an integral part of our family and he made his way quietly throughout our days. Whether our house was full of kids, just our family or if we had company, he was a part of almost every memory I have.

We have so many pictures of our much adored little black kitty. I have written about him on many occasions. Heavens, he was even the theme of one of my Christmas letters ("Because Our Little Black Cat Scratched").

He was loved and he knew it. I am pretty sure he adored us as well because we certainly felt our human/cat relationship was a two way street.

That little guy made my heart swell. Day after day, year after year. I wish I could say I showed my love for my children in a manner that was as unmistakable as the way I openly loved our little black cat.

I have replayed his last years and days with us over and over in my mind.

I know we did all we could for him. I know without a doubt. Our efforts were supported and supplemented by our friendly neighborhood veterinarian's office. I have felt a bond grow with our vet family throughout these past few years.

In his final hours, it was such a gift to simply sit beside him and absorb "the essence of Andre".

He was such a cool cat. So calm. So life affirming. So loving. So adventuresome. He knew how to live the good life.

I replayed the years in my mind and I was so incredibly at peace, knowing that we did everything we could for him. We loved him, nurtured him, took care of him when he was sick and always had our door open for him during all of those years where he was so interested in the great big world beyond our own back yard.

No regrets.

I did everything I could do, throughout his entire life with us. I said all I had to say. I wrote. We took pictures and videos. We have stories and memories which will transcend time.

My heart is full of good, long lasting feelings of loving and being loved.

Loving so deeply comes at a cost. Hearts are broken, great loves are lost and you risk not feeling love in return.

It is a price I would pay any day of the week. The high cost of loving comes with the greatest reward. You just know you would not have done it any other way.

It was a privilege and an honor loving you, Andre. Thank you for opening not only my heart, but the hearts of our entire family. We wouldn't be the same without you.

This is a picture of the sun which set upon the day when we laid Andre to rest.
My son took this picture on our drive home, after burying Andre on his brother's farm.
I knew he took the picture, he showed it to me at the time.
What I didn't know, is where I would find that photo.
It is the last photo within a file of pictures he took of Andre.
It is titled "Rest in Peace".

Our lives have a hole which only you could fill, Andre. Thank you for filling it so fully while you lived here with us.

Happily Ever After

They were the 'Fred and Ginger' of the dance studio. Maybe not. Were Fred and Ginger a couple off the dance floor? Did a romance ignite when they started dancing together? Maybe they were Cinderella and Prince Charming...

She told me of her story - before and after she met her husband. She had a child-like sense of joy about her when she spoke of her life and he was such a very big part of her story.

They were both single and had never been married. He was 60 when they met and fell in love. From someone who feels like the romance ship has sailed in, out and through their life at the age of 53, I look to my favorite dance couple and marvel at the proven fact that you are never to old to fall in love and start a life together.

She spoke of him and them with a sense of naiveté and wonder. She talked of how they met. She told us of the ways that he listened and gently guided her through her life's journey. She called him "Sweety" ...

I have never known one, without the other. In my eyes, they have been a couple 'forever'. But they weren't. In actuality, they were newlyweds when I first met them. Funny that I didn't realize that at the time. They simply seemed meant for each other.

Destiny and dancing brought these two young souls together and two lives merged into one life together. They are two of the kindest, most caring, giving and fun-loving people I know. I aspired to be part of a couple that emulated the love and joy they had found together.

Their wedding vows saw them through 'in sickness and in health'. The last time I spoke to him, his health was declining and when I asked how he was, his only concern was that of his wife. They had moved out of their house and into a senior's condominium and he was so pleased that his wife was surrounded by a caring community and out of their high maintenance home. She was happy and that (to me) sounded like his greatest joy.

He passed away last week. Last night, his brave and courageous wife got up and spoke about him and her and them in front of a room full of family, friends and community.

She looked so strong and her love for him superseded all else as she told us their love story. Her voice was young and her words were full of life as she remembered the impact that he had made on her life.

I thought that kind of love only happened in fairy tales.

I am grateful to know this couple that fell in love on the dance floor and forged a partnership that carried them through their lives together. And they will live happily ever after, within her heart and all of those who were privileged to know this real life couple that walked straight out of a fairy tale and into our lives...

To Have and To Hold ~ Precious Memories

I have a stockpile of sympathy cards in my dresser drawer these days. I used to have one or two sitting around. Now? I have a small little selection to choose from when the need arises.

The need has arisen far, far too many times in a very short period of time.

People in my close circle of friends and family are facing devastating losses. There is a continual reminder that our days on earth are precious and can be snatched away at any time. Sometimes there is a warning, sometimes there is not.

There is no easy way to lose a loved one. Whether the loss is though death, divorce, separation or irreconcilable differences. Living a life without someone that you are accustomed to have walking at your side is hard to fathom until it becomes your reality.

I feel like such a fraud as I walk with friends and family who are mourning their loss. Life has insulated me from heartache on so very many levels.

We lost dad so very gradually. We lost his essence long before he died due to the severe brain damage after his near fatal heart attack. I know there was a time that my grief was new and raw. But it was so very, very long ago.

Over the course of the past five years or more, I have been drawn to blogs dealing with the aftermath of loss. I couldn't figure out why I needed to read what these people had to say ... until recently. These blogs have given me a perspective that I didn't have. They have helped me understand (as much as one can understand each person's unique way of grieving) so that I feel like I can (if nothing else) at least not say the wrong things.

Assembling and writing my dad's family's story has been nothing short of cathartic for me. I have waded through my dad's memories and immersed myself completely. If I didn't feel 'healed' before, I feel reborn after this experience.

I know that everyone's time frame, in living through their grief, is different. The time when they are ready to immerse themselves fully in the essence of a loved one. I can only know what has worked for me and the magic of putting stories and pictures together has been beyond healing.

Now that I am coming out the other side of this Book of Family Memories project, I know where I want to go next. I want to write love stories. One story at a time. I want to help others articulate their story on paper so they can read it, touch it, share it and feel it whenever the need arises. It could be a private memoir for them to have and hold. It could be given to a child, grandchild or someone that they have adopted into their heart like a family member. Or it could simply be 'put out there' for the world to see.

When we put our heart on the line, we take a great risk. Sometimes it gets broken. Other times that love divides and grows and becomes more than one could have ever imagined. Often, both of those things are happening simultaneously as the ebbs and flows and tides of life are ever changing.

When your heart is aching because you miss someone, it is a comfort to be surrounded in the memories of the long and winding road that it took to know someone so well that you feel like you are missing a limb when they are gone.

I can only speak for myself, but assembling my dad's story has been one of life's greatest gifts. I am fortunate to have collected Mom's stories, memories and history from her personally. I had no idea how or where to begin with Dad's story because he wasn't here to tell it to me himself. Both family memoirs have been a gift unto themselves.

I love collecting memories and putting them together in the format of words, stories and pictures to have and to hold. Forever.

Forever is an elusive word. We don't have forever. But I am doing my best to capture what I can, while I have it in a fashion that will outlast my physical body. My children will never miss me because I will have left too much of myself behind!

Is this heaven ... or am I simply living the life I was intended to live, right here on earth??

Love Stories

I have been on the listening end of some beautiful love stories lately.

It is unfortunate that these stories have been triggered by grief and a need to talk of a lost loved one...

People are talking. I am listening. There are beautiful stories all around us. Sometimes we don't tell those stories while we are living them because life is so full of clutter that we can't hear the beauty in among the task of living-our-lives.

Love is all around us. We just have to listen.

I was sitting still with my thoughts this morning (okay, I was busy applying lotion to my feet before I race off out the door and off into another work-day) and it came to me. Love stories...

I must finish the writing project that has been filed under "Procrastination Project #21238" so that I can start a series. Love stories.

Love and marriage. Love and children. Love and pets. Love and parents. Love and siblings. Love and friendship. You see? No one is immune.

I want to approach one person at a time and ask if I can put their story into words, illustrate it and put it together in the format of a small booklet so that they can share their story.

One person at a time. Short stories. Stories that speak to everyone's heart.

I feel something stirring inside and it is not indigestion. It is a spark. I feel a flame begging for oxygen. I feel alive.

I must not delay.