Along Came A Dog

When I was a little girl, I had a beautiful golden retriever named Rusty. He was my best friend and always there for me when I needed him. I cried into his fur when my Grandma died and again when I contracted polio. He would sit by quietly and gently nuzzle. And look at me with those understanding eyes. Many of you know I recently lost my Mother. One day I had just left the bank and was crying because I had seen an elderly mother in the bank with her daughter. Sitting at the stop light, I looked at the car next to me. In the backseat of the car was a golden retriever dog with his head out the window looking right at me. He never took his eyes off me as I began blubbering like a baby and telling this dog how much I loved him. It seemed the light did not change and it was just me and this dog for a very long time. I did not roll my window down for fear of causing him to try to jump out. Finally the car moved away and we went our separate ways. Anyone who thinks dogs can't read our minds is dead wrong. This dog clearly saw that I was grieving and was doing what dogs do, standing by and gently nuzzling. Thank you Rusty, for still being there for me after all these years. I will never forget you.

Visiting with Mom

Most of you know my mother is living in a rest home (NW Contunuum) and has been since last June. Today as I visited I was struck at how weak she is becoming. She looks at me through sleepy eyes and says "any day now, honey." She knows that I know what she means. It has been a long battle she has fought. Suffering from intestinal distress for much of her life, it was a final blockage and subsequent surgery that finally put her over the edge. She is at peace with it and in no pain. Vascular dementia resulting from mini strokes has robbed her of much of her memory so we speak of the past mostly. When I got home today it occurred to me the similarity of caring for her needs and that of my 4 month old great grandson, Cameron, who I watch 1 day a week or so. Both love it when I stroke their heads, both wrap their fingers around mine when I feed them. I feel Mom's irratic heartbeat and Cameron's strong steady one and thnk of one just beginning life while the other is ending. Once when my youngest daughter was an infant, I carried her through a rest home while on a visit. An elderly lady grabbed her little hand and said, "Oh, she is just starting her life and I am ending mine." I remember her sweet face and felt sorry for her. Thinking of that now I am reminded of the swift passage of time and the importance of being with those we love. While Mother is saying good-bye, Cameron is saying hello and both bring me unspeakable joy.