Tag Archives: grief

death, hope, life, living and growing, Love

Listening to Life

Sitting in the pew at the funeral of my aunt, an unexpected and dismal thought came into my mind.

We strive our whole lives, and when our lives are over, all that is left is our body in a small pine box.

Then I realized that was death talking. Death, known for being fatalistic, talks that way.

And I realized death was right, at least in a small way. When life leaves, a body can be contained in a pine box.

But as I continued to look around, Life spoke. (Life sees more than death ever could.) Life said to me, ‘I am everywhere. I am filling this place.’

As my eyes gazed across the aisle to my cousins, I realized Life was right. Life knew about such things because Life was the cousin of Love, and Love is the best part of Life.

Love doesn’t die.

Love continues to live through the lives left behind.

My cousins might not know it yet. The ways that their mother is and will always be with them. Death throws a shadow on that. But as their new Life emerges, Love makes itself known.

Their mother’s body, the thing that represented her in this life on earth, is no more. But her love! No box, no matter how large, could contain it. Her love is infused into each of them. At a cellular level, she can never be taken from them. She will never leave them. And on a really good day, they may even glimpse her in each other.

I thanked Life for speaking up. For not letting death have the last word. For reminding me that the sadness that comes with death can temporarily blur our ability to see how Love could still be present when the life we loved has ended. I thanked Life for tenaciously ensuring that the Love that remains continues to be seen, felt, heard, and discovered in new ways.

Love is immune to death. But Life is not immune to Love. Once a life is given Love, that gift can never be taken away. It is ours forever.

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blogger, death, dogs, living and growing, Love, mourning

Our Romeo part one

Twelve and a half years ago, the holidays found us in challenging times. Our youngest daughter was struggling. In that season, our world revolved around her. We were desperate to find something that would help her.

Three days before Christmas, we received an email from the Animal Rescue League of Boston, whom we had been fostering for off and on. They had a dog in the shelter named Violet. Violet was pregnant and due any day. The shelter would be on a skeleton crew over the holidays, and they wondered….would we foster her?

We had a full life. Five kids between the ages of 19 and 11. It was Christmas. The house was bursting with activity, decorations, and busyness. Who in their right mind would say yes to this?!

We couldn’t help but wonder, though….could this pregnant dog, bursting with life inside her, help our daughter? Could this experience provide her with a distraction, a focus, or a purpose?

We said yes.

On December 26th, just past midnight, Violet gave birth. We watched five beautiful puppies be born. The second one out was so big we thought it was twins. It was not. But it was the dog that would become our Romeo.

For 8 weeks, those puppies stayed with us. We really liked two of them, but my husband and I were determined to not keep any of them. We had recently put one of our dogs down and still had another dog at home. We brought them back when they were finally ready for their forever homes. All of them.

Our daughter had been working on us, though. There was one in particular who had stolen her heart. We called the shelter. “Wait…” we said. “We want that one back.”

And so Romeo came back home, only leaving us long enough to be neutered. Romeo and our daughter grew up together. She overcame her struggles, and Romeo was a big part of that journey. We will always be grateful for the gift we were given that Christmas. A perfect little puppy who made all of our lives better. Our Romeo.

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