I've said I do poorly with "goodbye." You've already heard that one from me here. Furthermore, I'm supposed to be producing an upbeat, happy blog where people can go to get away from the bad news of the day. So, I'm not going to spend much time editing this one and I'm going to warn you upfront that I feel very self-serving posting this.
With that said...
This weekend I said goodbye to one of my favorite people in the whole world, Sabra. She's not gone forever from my life, but she's now 2000 miles away. Gone are the days when I could just ring her up and meet her out for a margarita (and feel awful about the headache she'd inevitably suffer the next day). Gone are the days where she'd watch Dia and then I'd hang out for way too long afterwards. Gone are the days when she was sure to attend all of our crazy parties and make them that much happier with her presence. I can still call her and get my fix of that wonderfully contagious laugh, but I can't pretend that I won't miss her every single day.
And the weekend before, my big buddy, Logan - that awful, stinky and senile dog of mine - passed away. I suppose if there were solace to be found it was that I was right there with him. If that dog were ever graceful, it was in the way he left this world.
The night before he passed away all was normal - he came inside and had some dinner and wanted back out afterward. It was a nice night and he was happy on his blanket on the patio. He woke me up at midnight to top off his water bowl as always. The only significant difference was that he didn't wake me up again at 4:00 a.m. At 6:00 a.m. I woke on my own, realized what time it was and went to check on him. He was fine. About an hour later, though, I checked on him again and he seemed incapable of getting up. I tried to give him water, but he wouldn't drink. My neighbor, Rhonda, came out to bring him some treats as she always does in the morning and I explained he was having a hard time. We both sat with him for quite awhile talking quietly and giving him pats. Eventually his breathing became labored so I sat on the front porch petting him and feeding him ice chips. At one point Dia woke up and I brought her downstairs to sit with him too. She helped me with the ice chips and stroked his head. His breathing slowed and then stopped and he just quietly passed from this world. We bent and gave him a kiss, but my big buddy was no more.
I'm not going to review all my losses over all the years, but I do know that the cumulative loss of friends and family plays a lot in how much these subsequent losses sting. I suppose it's not so shocking to me these days so there's a dignity I can manage now as opposed to when I was more of a rookie at it, but with each loss there's some nostalgia for everyone I've lost before.
................ Ah, but before I get too swamped down in my pity mire, let me shine a light on the flip side of all of this. Sabra's going away picnic brought people together that I love. In saying goodbye to the Murphy's I said a renewed hello to other friends. Another going away party a few weeks prior introduced me to hilariously funny and kind people who I hope will soon call me "friend" too. And, at the close of this weekend, I sat down to a Thanksgiving II dinner with my silly family plus two new friends and had the best time just eating, chatting and enjoying each other.
Someday the Murphys will visit and we'll all sit around laughing, clowning and commiserating with each other just like old times; and someday a dog will come into our lives that needs our love and care and fits into our strange family. Until those times come, I'll retire my sadness and celebrate the moments we have now. After all, life is good.
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