Friday, January 22, 2016

Letting Go

It has been a year since the human set me free.

I've watched her since that moment and felt her hurting. She's struggled to let me go. Her head knows it but her heart and soul, the parts of her that I know best, well, they've been hanging onto me for dear life. 

People keep telling her I'm with her, that she will feel me. 

They're right, I'm with her always. 

But she won't feel me until she's ready to let me go. 

So I stay. I patiently wait.

I send signs she doesn't see yet. 

As the anniversary approached, she cried more. She planned how she would spend the day. She ran through memories like movies in her mind, from the day we met to the moment I drew my final breath in her arms. 

I was there.

She didn't feel me. 

Until the night of January 15th. 

As she laid on her mat after a yoga class taught by Rachel, a beautiful soul who always makes my human feel safe with whatever comes up in her practice, her heart finally felt safe to push through the pain and open just a little bit more. Enough to let me go. Enough for me to finally come in. 

And so I moved into every part of her, filled up her heart and soul and spoke to her. This time, she heard me as she lay there. She didn't cry. She felt peace. 

I told her I am happy. 

I told her that I love her. 

I told her I am with her. 

I told her my legacy to her was to open her heart to pure love, knowing for certain that it would eventually hurt. To love another soul more than herself. To make her a better human being.

I told her to feel joy that I lived. Because I am not gone. 

The next day, I sent her signs that she could see now.

A German shepherd puppy on her walk at Bronte.

An old grey muzzled lab too, one who walked like I did in my last months.

A song from our first day together as she pulled into the park, and the old song "Stormy" on her radio as she drove away from the park. 

As she walked the last few steps we took together on our way to the vet a year before, I was with her again, as I always am, thanking her and loving her.

And she felt me. We are together in spirit now until I greet her again. 

1 comment:

Susan said...

Beautiful. We spend a lot of time teaching our dogs to 'stay', yet they never do. Storm will always be a part of you. Thanks for sharing.