Finding the Gift...

I woke up this morning and noticed how chilly the air was. Getting up to shut the window, I saw the dawn peeking up over the mountains, and though part of me wanted to snuggle back under the covers for a few more moments, I started to put on some fleece pants and a sweater. I gathered up a leash and clipped it on my sweet baby sheep dog. "Let's go Ferdinand..." I whispered. He stretched out a little and then plodded beside me. Usually he is the one to wake me up in the morning with his big bear paws gently patting my arm to let me know he wants to go out. In any case, we went outside and started walking down the street, heading for the gully that houses the ashes and memories of my lost babies.

The cool autumn breeze felt fresh on my cheeks and I pulled my hat a little lower around my ears. No one was stirring around us--It was Sunday after all, a day of "rest". Even the busy eager church goers were not up yet. I walked briskly, my 13 week old pup trotting politely beside me. I looked down at him with a smile. Already his downy hair is obstructing the ability to see his sparkling eyes. Soon, he will look like a mop with legs. A large shaggy mop. I thought about all the dogs I've had in my life. Good dogs, silly dogs, active dogs, sweet dogs....some big, some little....but all of them pulled. They would get attached to a leash, and suddenly, the race was on. By the time the walk was over, my arm would be throbbing for the relief of a hot bath and Epsom salts. So, it was pretty special to me that my young pup had never pulled my arm out of it's shoulder socket in an effort to move faster, move faster, move faster! No, he was happy to be by my side, even following me at times. Not in a lethargic way, it was more of a contentment to just be with me.

We were walking. And that was enough for him to feel happy about.

We were walking. And I was able to hear the breeze and the birds around me without wondering if I would be pulled in front of a car by an eager cat chase.

We were walking. And I was relaxed.

Relaxed.

Relaxed.

I laughed a little to myself as we entered the wooded gully...thinking about all of the times I'd walked here in the past 5 months. Hundreds of times. Hundreds. I thought of all the tears that had soaked into the dirt that my feet were now walking on. Thousands. I thought about all of the talking and wishing and screaming into my husbands chest I had done here. Countless.

My babies are gone.

But I was relaxed.

I walked up to the stone with my Fuzzy pup. He sat down right away. He knew the drill. He would sit, and I would kneel. He would cuddle close to me while I cried. But today...kneeling there. I smiled.

I thanked my boys who never got to be for all the wisdom I'd gained from them. I thanked them for sending me a friend to heal with...a perfect dog. I thanked them for transforming my sight and opening up the world of purple and yellow all around me that I'd never noticed before they touched my life. I thanked them for my life. And for theirs. I thanked them for loving me. For letting me love them. I thanked them for helping me understand something about life that I didn't know before. I thanked them for giving me sisters. Sisters to love, and cry with, who understand my heart, while I can understand theirs. What a gift! What a gift.

I got up and brushed the dirt off my knees and blew a kiss into the air for my babies.

I know it isn't over....the crying comes and goes. I know I will still have moments of feeling the stab of loss in my gut. That isn't something you lose. Even so, this morning when I was walking away from that rock, I knew something had happened to me. I had found that golden thread that shows you something good in life. That golden thread that runs through existence in all it's corners, high and low. I had found it's presence in my darkest loss... and there was something really beautiful about understanding that it was there. Coming up out of the gully I noticed a purple wildflower with a yellow butterfly sitting on it.

I looked up at the newly lit sky and whispered..."Thank you."