Debbie was always a cat person; pictured with Betsy in 1976. Typist: Bethany
Jason calls it "a movie moment." As in it is the kind of thing that could only happen in the movies. Jason phoned to tell me his sister, Debbie, had lost her battle with cancer and passed away. As soon as my call with him ended I began to dial my mom who's number appeared on my caller ID before I had finished dialing. I answered to hear her crying and I asked "you know? Who called you?" Her response was "you're crying? Who told you?" Well, my mom was crying because my grandfather had suffered a heart attack and was recovering in the hospital. I labeled this late September day "the worst day ever." But two and a half weeks ago, when my grandfather died unexpectedly from another heart attack, I thought an even worst worse had been reached. My sister-in-law was buried exactly one month before. How bad can things get? Well, while setting up the church for my grandfather's funeral, I received word from my dad that my forty-five year old cousin had mysteriously passed away. I completely broke down. If ever there was a last straw, this was surely it.
Jason calls it "a movie moment." As in it is the kind of thing that could only happen in the movies. Jason phoned to tell me his sister, Debbie, had lost her battle with cancer and passed away. As soon as my call with him ended I began to dial my mom who's number appeared on my caller ID before I had finished dialing. I answered to hear her crying and I asked "you know? Who called you?" Her response was "you're crying? Who told you?" Well, my mom was crying because my grandfather had suffered a heart attack and was recovering in the hospital. I labeled this late September day "the worst day ever." But two and a half weeks ago, when my grandfather died unexpectedly from another heart attack, I thought an even worst worse had been reached. My sister-in-law was buried exactly one month before. How bad can things get? Well, while setting up the church for my grandfather's funeral, I received word from my dad that my forty-five year old cousin had mysteriously passed away. I completely broke down. If ever there was a last straw, this was surely it.
My grandfather and his last lab, Shadow, enjoying a sunny day on the Niagara River.
My grandfather, my Natasha and me in 1987. During my grandfather's funeral I had an epiphany: I am so lucky to have known and been so close to such an amazing man. Having a wonderful sister-in-law, even if it was for too short of a time, was a dream come true. My cousin knew how much I had always looked up to her and how much she meant to me. If I didn't have a big, loving family, I would never have to experience the pain of their deaths. And I wouldn't want that. I can endure the loss and be thankful for the wonderful memories.
Such an epiphany has come to me before. My realization déjà vu was from January, 1989, the day my first husky Natasha died of a stroke. I never wanted to feel such painful loss again. As I walked the beautiful snowy day without my best friend of eight years, it occurred to me that all of the wonderful times we had shared were worth this time of heart ache. I was truly grateful for the friendship we shared. Plus, walking anywhere, especially in the snow, without a dog just felt wrong. Jason would have called this "a movie moment" too. The kind of positive attitude about death I found that day is exactly what children are scripted to learn from living with, caring for and suffering through the loss of pets. Being grateful for what I have, things like photos, memories and a legacy of love and wisdom, is truly a moment straight out of a tear-jerker film.
Such an epiphany has come to me before. My realization déjà vu was from January, 1989, the day my first husky Natasha died of a stroke. I never wanted to feel such painful loss again. As I walked the beautiful snowy day without my best friend of eight years, it occurred to me that all of the wonderful times we had shared were worth this time of heart ache. I was truly grateful for the friendship we shared. Plus, walking anywhere, especially in the snow, without a dog just felt wrong. Jason would have called this "a movie moment" too. The kind of positive attitude about death I found that day is exactly what children are scripted to learn from living with, caring for and suffering through the loss of pets. Being grateful for what I have, things like photos, memories and a legacy of love and wisdom, is truly a moment straight out of a tear-jerker film.
| Starting Monday, we Cascadian Nomads are going to spend the week sharing what we are most grateful for. We have joined with Oz The Terrier, Loved By A Collie & Kitty Cat Chronicles to invite you to join a Share Gratitude Blog Hop. Bloggers are welcome to link up one or more posts sharing thanks and appreciation all week long. Readers and followers are encouraged to share thankful stories and photos in blog comments or on social media. We encourage everyone to use the hashtag #ShareGratitude so we can all gain inspiration from each others gratefulness. |  |
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Adding more than one post is encouraged; the more gratitude, the better.
Adding more than one post is encouraged; the more gratitude, the better.
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