Maya Angelou described kindnesses in challenging times as “rainbows in her clouds”. She said although her life was full of clouds, those clouds were full of rainbows to remember.
Before she walked on stage or onto the set of a movie, she would ask all the people who had been kind to her to come along.
Mentally, she invited these angels as a strengthening presence and as a tribute to their impact on her life- (she described them as “all of them” - gay, straight, white, black, young, old, smart, simple, rich, poor, each and every being who had been kind to her in any capacity)
A few moments of quiet reflection on past and present kindnesses is a wonderful way to start your day. I like to play the song “happy” by Pharrell Wiliams or anything by Vivaldi as I engage in these pleasant thoughts.
I know it sounds sappy, but I’m extremely grateful for the rainbows in my clouds as I reflect on my dear friends, family, coworkers and neighbors who gathered grace close after my son and I said good bye to our beautiful (beautiful, beautiful, gorgeous!) dog, Lou Lou.
It was really awful for me ( I felt like my dog was terrified and I did it all wrong) and I can't begin to thank all the people who shared their experiences when I called. It was so reassuring to understand that whether their dog was young, old, unable to stand, or still eating and walking, and whether death happened in a vet's office or at home, unexpectedly or with compassionate assistance, everyone shared the initial guilt, bargaining ( I did it too soon, I waited too long, I could have would have should have...) and other typical grief responses.
One of the most thoughtful presents I received was a lovely memorial stone and a floral arrangement on my coffee table. So nice to come home to SOMETHING the day after Lou Lou died-I will remember this in the future.
Two of the most helpful comments were this: "That shame and guilt you feel is grief, Mary, it's just grief", and "you might be bargaining, my friend." ( that one really felt off when my friend said it- I was positive I was right- that I acted too soon, that lou lou wasn't ready...now I see I was bargaining. My dog was dying no matter what and she was in a great deal of pain). My awesome BFF/sister in law went on a long hilly hike with me later that afternoon -it helped so much to MOVE when I wanted to sit inside and isolate.
Three of my sweet grand nieces came with their mom and grandma to a blessing at the Blue Lotus Temple about a month ago, where Lou lou laid on a comfy cushion and relaxed as we meditated and the monks chanted good karma for all of us. The site of those little ones mediating is one of my favorite memories of this last year. SO beautiful!
Lou lou stopped eating at one point and my son told me, "Mom, nothing on earth will refuse to eat KFC original recipe." I, an avowed vegan, went obediently to the drive-through.
(On the way home, I could not resist a taste. I just had to see if it was THAT good. It was. "Holy. Crap!", I said as I closed the box.)
For the last 30 days or so, Lou Lou ate KFC morning and night. I have a thank you card with her photo to deliver to the drive through workers, who must wonder what happened to that odd woman and also must have wondered why I didn't weigh 400 pounds. (At my lowest point, I actually got my dog a bacon burger at five guys- she was literally wasting away from cancer and my compassion for all other animals went out the window - it's back now, I swear. although I do have a newfound hankering now and then for KFC. Apparently I am superior to no one- a surprise to no one but me- ha ha)
People reassured me that we were great dog owners and that my son and I did everything I could - a dear friend told me she could not imagine how my dog was even still walking when she saw her and a stranger in the park took one look at my dog and smiled at me as he said, "In my family, we call this bonus time-you're doing a good job, my friend" before he leaned over to give Lou lou a friendly pat. Every single reaction from every single person helped-it was like I was being touched by healing hands over and over.
The day after Lou lou died, I realized I made a mistake. I called the emergency line for my vet's office and tearfully confessed that I didn't ask for Lou lou's ashes but I really really wanted them. Was it too late?
The vet reassured me again ( the day before he said gently that one of his clients told him "I'd rather be a week early than a minute late" to help us process our choice). Even though it was a Sunday morning, he took the time to tell me that No, it wasn't too late. He'd make sure to get Lou Lou's remains back for us.
And I am glad now, to have them. My son and I will scatter them at her favorite parks and keep some and I don't exactly know what else we'll do.
What I do know is that my dear friends took me out to dinner that night and listened to me over and over, and my son was there every step of the way. He told me "I'm at peace with this-it's going to be ok", my yoga teachers gave me extra presses and so much more and my practice. My practice. my practice worked. I was so upset that I literally thought I would die but I knew that deep breaths and extreme self compassion would help. ( Because I practice accessing these helpful attributes, I was able to tap in and heal.)
I'm thankful that I've learned to love myself enough that I could let the parts of me that felt like a dog murderer out to speak and be comforted.
I asked my faithful friends: Do you really really REALLY really think Lou lou is free and happy? Two of them hesitated, thinking before they answered "YES YES I do, Mary. I do" My family helped too, again with their own stories. Many people joked that they'd be glad to lend me their dog - ha ha. I felt so so SO bad the first night, better the next day and now, I feel so much better that I'm here, sharing about this on Facebook.
I was eye to eye with my old friend as she left his life, whispering the names of all the dog and people that were waiting for her ( I hoped). It was so terrible, and such a privilege. I saw the change in her body (and her eyes as they teared up and stilled). I learned first hand that our bodies are just shells.
I feel the luxury of existing inside my body as if it's brand new. I notice more, realizing that it's not easy to give up the view through these eyes, the feeling of this belly, or the stride of my step - all temporary gifts meant to be thoroughly enjoyed.
Last week at a lacrosse game I noticed the sunset like never before - I'm thankful for learning once again that miracles surround me in a tight circle at all times- I took our dog to a pond near me twice a day towards the end and I was astounded at the flush of wildlife and birdsong and beautiful sites each and every morning and night, like a nature show in my back yard.
Thanks Lou lou, for teaching me to take advantage of the here and now, here and now.
I love all of you (and your dogs).
Mary