My
sister Jill called me yesterday from her home in Virginia, and my immediate reaction
was to panic. We don’t speak all that often, and since my parents passed away, we
have lost what little touch we had with each other. The moment I saw her number
on our call display, my imagination went into overdrive. What’s gone wrong in
her family; has one of the kids or grandchildren had a tragic accident, was she
diagnosed with a terminal illness, did her house burn down? Why else would my sister
be contacting me out of the blue, after so much time? I think I’m experiencing mild
and untraceable PTS, and such is the nature of my fight or flight state of mind
of late. Why do I immediately gravitate to DEFCON 1 when I get a call from a family
member? Over the past ten year, during which Mom and Dad were in the end stages of their lives, and then Shauna’s
dad fell ill, there were so many didn’t-see-that-coming phone calls. I seem to have unconsciously harbored the stress from those
events, and can’t seem to shed the negative thoughts. I follow my nephews, Jill’s
kids and their families, on Facebook, and I take vicarious pleasure in watching
their lives unfold in photographs, and reading their posts. This includes
the celebration of new pets, exotic travels, not-so-exotic travels, career and educational
milestones, etc. But the immediacy of all information these days, verifiable or
otherwise, is increasingly overwhelming. Time passes with each click of a mouse,
and with every disaster, be it global, local, or familial, I lose a little more of my
perspective, of my elusive peace of mind. It’s all going by too fast, swirling like
the out-of-control fire that destroys an 800-year-old cathedral. Well, that’s
how I feel today.
I’ve
heard the expression “heartache” so many times, but I never knew it was an
actual feeling. I have been feeling my heart ache for the past few days, as we
have arranged to have a vet come into our home this Thursday afternoon to put our
beloved Jasper to sleep. Originally, we’d planned to do this Sunday, in order to
coincide with a meaningful birthday, oblivious to the fact that it was Easter
Sunday. Just shy of fourteen years old, our Jasper has reached her end. As hard
as it was to make the call, after a visit to our vet, Shauna and I agreed that this is the humane thing to do. Right now, Jasper is sleeping soundly on the
bed, snoring softly, and Shauna is cuddled up next to her. While she no longer knows who we are, for the time being she
is comfortable, and she is not alone. Shauna and I will be with her until her
final sleep. Fourteen precious years, measured by the life of a pet who has
accompanied us everywhere, went by in a flash. I’ve have heard from so many people
who have lost old pets over the past year, and I have vicariously felt their
pain, knowing that this day would soon come for our girl. To be painless is to consent not to feel.
Today
began with a terrific snowstorm, then later the sun came out and the snow melt was
trickling down our driveway. Perhaps this is winter’s last gasp. We may get some more snow, but
as I headed over to the general store to pick up our mail, I noticed an
ever-widening swath of open water on the frozen lake. Another season has come
and gone, and I can’t help but wonder what’s in store for the next one.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2019 ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED
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