Tough decisions... a tough day...

My project plans for the next year have been first and foremost on my mind the last few days. More than anything, it's been to keep my mind occupied for many reasons. Derek and I have been on eggshells for the last week as we await word for when he embarks on his new job. Everything is in a perpetual holding pattern until we know when he's leaving, and all the other details that go along with that. As if that edginess in the house wasn't enough, we've been dealing with a very ill child. Our youngest has been sick since Christmas night/ Boxing Day. She's usually very cheerful, vibrant, and full of energy, so it takes a lot of wind out of your sails to see her so lethargic. I won't get into the details of how sick she has been.

Last, but not least, is the illness, and death today, of our beloved dog, Taz... better known to all that loved him as "Dipshit". Yes... that is what we called him most of the time, and what he answered to better than his given name. We knew when he was given to us nearly 3½ years ago that we wouldn't have him all that long. He was already at least 8 years old, prone to many health problems as a Lhasa Apso (not Shih Tsu like I said in a previous post), and had survived being hit by a car, abuse and a laundry list of other things prior to coming to live with us. His last few months I could tell he was declining. There were days when the 4 steps to the door were just too many for his old body to be able to manage without a big struggle. He also refused to get along with our new kitten that we rescued in October. This may not seem unusual to most people, but Taz was a dog that refused to believe he was anything other than a cat. He even purred when you scratched him behind the ears. Our guests would laugh uproariously when we explained that he wasn't growling at them... he was doing his version of purring! Towards the end, even the few things he still enjoyed, he didn't seem to be as excited about. Our daily walks were about the only time I would see him show any enthusiasm, and he was a very social dog... ask anyone in our village... he would visit them all on his "daily rounds"! All of us in our family have accepted that this is the best for him, and that he's no longer suffering. We are glad that he didn't suffer long. His last day(s) was(were) rough on us all, as about all he could manage to do was get up long enough to stumble, and bark occasionally from pain. He has earned his place over the "Rainbow Bridge"... with all the squeaky toys he can ever hope to break, and all the tires he could ever want to pee on. RIP our beloved Taz...

Till we meet again Wendy...

I am in a large ballroom of a fancy hotel. There are preparations going on around me for an immense party. Is it a wedding reception or just a huge gala? I am unsure, but I know that whatever it is, it's *very* important, and for someone important. Everyone is rushing around making sure that everything is perfect. Every single detail is being studied and re-checked to make sure that nothing is forgotten, not a thing overlooked. I am confused, but doing everything I can to make sure that I am doing my part and helping with the fancy decorations. I am rushing around just like everyone else and working hard to get everything done in time. There is a feeling of urgency, but not to the point that you are being pushed into rushing too much, and making a tragic mistake. Everything must be "just so", and you take just the needed amount of time to do it, and get it done right. Next thing I know, the phone is ringing... I awaken from my deep slumber to answer the phone. On the other end is the saddened, distant voice of my husband, trying to explain to me in my semi-conscious state that our precious Wendy has passed on. I am upset by the news even though it wasn't completely unexpected. I am confused and bewildered by my strange dream and how I was woken up. I don't often dream, and even more rarely do I remember them, but this dream moved my soul in a way that I can't describe.

That night at work I was a zombie. My eyes were open but my mind was a million miles away. It was the same reaction I had when my Mom passed away. I was in mourning, but I didn't know what else to do but go to work. I suppose this is how I deal with grief... pushing it away and only dealing with tiny little bits at a time. How else can you explain someone serving coffee at a coffeeshop not even 12 hours after her mom died??? I found meticulous tasks to do to keep myself busy. Many of my co-workers hate doing things like that, so it is easy to find tons of the tiny, time-consuming products to put out.

I am alone with my thoughts and I am drawn to meaning behind this strange dream that I remember. All of a sudden it all hits me... I was dreaming of the preparations in heaven for Wendy. She was loved by all that knew her, and will be greatly missed by all those that she left behind. Who else, but someone so beloved would be worthy of this kind of reception? She isn't gone... not at all. She is simply somewhere else right now, awaiting the rest of us to join her in paradise, with a spirit that is no longer ravaged by that evil cancer. She is reaping the rewards of her earthly life now as those of us left behind mourn our loss and wait for the day that we will all be reunited.

It's not "goodbye"Auntie Wendy... it's "till we meet again".