Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

Your all too human heart.

August 10, 2016

 

I lost a pet today. I don't need to tell you guys how wrenching that is, because you know. And I've been sitting here, thinking and thinking about how I wasn't going to include that in this space and wondering how on earth I'd go about that. How vague and universal could I spin this? 

 

And then I thought, god, why not just lay it out there? Then I answered my own question: because then I'd have to think about Mouse (that was her name) and my loss. And that's hard. Goodbyes are hard--no matter to which animal kingdom you subscribe. Love is love; an end is an end. And Mouse was my bridge, in a way--she was this little ferryman who saw me from one side of my life to the other, and I thought, finally, (with welcome amusement) that she figured maybe I really could do this thing on my own. 

 

Man. I hope she was right. I hope I can live up to that kind of faith. 

 

No. Loss is never easy, always carrying grief, whether the one you've lost is gone for good or just across the state, the country, the globe. We love because we must. It's how we're built and thank the goddess for it, but it comes with this price. Well, not a price, really. It's not a punishment or a tax. It's another way, another opportunity, to carry compassion, to prove to yourself how deep love can be, to prove to yourself that if you can feel this much then surely, surely you must be worthy of the same, somehow. 

 

The deeply loving, the deeply mourning can never be unlovable. 

 

Sleep well, sweet Mouse. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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