Thank you for sharing your grief-journey, both the darkness and the shimmering--for openly sitting with those "questions that exist to just be themselves: Open, curious, twinkling, enough." This is a beautiful, honest meditation on the mystery. I thought of Mark Strand's "Keeping Things Whole," so I'll put a link here. In grief the games of meaning fall away, and everything is a magical, buzzing whole. But the loss is real and so hard. I'm sorry for the Boots-shaped hole in your heart.
RIP dear Boots. I'm so glad to have met you. Your life, your impact on Sarah will be etched forever in her (and Mo's!) memory hearts. Having pets takes us to the highest heights of joy and comfort, and companionship, and we are devastated when they leave us behind. I've learned that this is the bargain we so reluctantly accept. I've also learned grief, and how to embrace grief through our pets' passing. We have four of our dearest 4-footed friends buried at the edge of our garden, and like the most beautiful message in the book, "The 10th. good thing about Barney," our cats and now Boots are forever in the flowers. Love you.
So super glad you shared this one, Sarah. I feel wrenched and giggly having finished it-a strange combination. My favorite part was you thinking all the other animals look like Boots (the cub in the photo really did, though, so I'm thinking all the others probably did too). The photos were really emotional especially as part of your essay. And I also loved nautilus/nauseous. Thanks for connecting.
Ah, what a beautiful post, Sarah. Thank you for the vulnerability, questions, and precision in your writing. We lost our dear dog Barley two weeks ago today, and I am here on the journey, feeling a little nautilus. And in good company.
Thank you for sharing your grief-journey, both the darkness and the shimmering--for openly sitting with those "questions that exist to just be themselves: Open, curious, twinkling, enough." This is a beautiful, honest meditation on the mystery. I thought of Mark Strand's "Keeping Things Whole," so I'll put a link here. In grief the games of meaning fall away, and everything is a magical, buzzing whole. But the loss is real and so hard. I'm sorry for the Boots-shaped hole in your heart.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47541/keeping-things-whole
Your share was what was missing from this post, Jody! <3 Such a good poem to pair with the other two.
RIP dear Boots. I'm so glad to have met you. Your life, your impact on Sarah will be etched forever in her (and Mo's!) memory hearts. Having pets takes us to the highest heights of joy and comfort, and companionship, and we are devastated when they leave us behind. I've learned that this is the bargain we so reluctantly accept. I've also learned grief, and how to embrace grief through our pets' passing. We have four of our dearest 4-footed friends buried at the edge of our garden, and like the most beautiful message in the book, "The 10th. good thing about Barney," our cats and now Boots are forever in the flowers. Love you.
Love you too, Bill <3 So glad you got to meet him!
So super glad you shared this one, Sarah. I feel wrenched and giggly having finished it-a strange combination. My favorite part was you thinking all the other animals look like Boots (the cub in the photo really did, though, so I'm thinking all the others probably did too). The photos were really emotional especially as part of your essay. And I also loved nautilus/nauseous. Thanks for connecting.
Your readership is such a gift, Gail!!
Ah, what a beautiful post, Sarah. Thank you for the vulnerability, questions, and precision in your writing. We lost our dear dog Barley two weeks ago today, and I am here on the journey, feeling a little nautilus. And in good company.
Oh gosh. I'm thinking about Barley, and I'm grateful to know you're a part of my nautilus community <3
<3