How ya doing little plant?
You’re as pretty as can be.
I’m glad you’ve come
To live with me.
You sooth a broken heart
In my time of need.
You cheer me with
It always seems to be that way
it’s the simplest of things
that gives us hope
for a brand new day.
It’s difficult to move
when you’re feeling so sad,
But not doing a thing
also feels kind of bad.
I hear my Dad’s voice say,
One step at a time.
Soon you’ll begin
To feel alive,
And again see yourself
On an upward climb.
Just start from now,
At a time.
When you come back to the living
You’ll start feeling fine.
All you have to do
Is simple start from now!
“In our moving outward,
upward and onward,
I feel the silent strength linking me
to all others
by bonds of sympathy
and true brotherhood.”
To all of you who loved Ollie, and have lost a pet of your own sharing your pain with us. We wanted to share this story of hope with you, that we received in the mail. Thank you for your kind words, love, support, prayers and understanding. It has meant so much to us know that we are not alone in our grief.
On October 23, 2016, we laid our sweet Ollie dog to rest, and our hearts have been broken in these last few days without him. I think about how ironic it is that this happened on the same day that I always posted “Sundays with Ollie.” For us it was literally our last “Sunday with Ollie.” I kept thinking he was 13, but after looking at his papers he was actually 12. He became a part of our family in October of 2004. I remember the day we picked him out. I was going to take home the first puppy that came up to me. They say it’s their way of picking you out, but Ollie was too busy chasing his brothers and sisters around the yard, and he was the runt of the liter. I fell in love with him right off the bat. He was 6 weeks old and so tiny I could hold him in my two hands. As we took him away from the only family he knew he was scared, but he melted in my arms as I began to hum softly in his ear. Our bond began, and while Tom wasn’t much of a dog person, it made him happy to see me so content. Ollie, being the personality that he was warmed his way into Tom’s heart as well.
As I was looking through his papers I found the receipt for a dog training class I signed him up for. It made me laugh remembering how totally uncooperative he was. Ollie was more interested in playing with the other dogs then learning how to behave and listen. He had no fears of other dogs, he’d let the biggest ones know that he was no push over. By all accounts some people might consider him an irritating dog with his loud bark and his piercing stare, but it was his charismatic personality that overshadowed anything else. I would do anything to hear that bark one more time right now. As Tom said, Ollie was one of a kind, and surely our most favorite of all pets.
God has a way helping us through our losses. We simple must be open to what he has for us to receive. As we left the pet emergency, taking Ollie home to bury him in our back yard. A woman appeared out of nowhere seeing how distraught I was she said to me, “peace be with you sister, you’ll see your furry little friend again someday.” Then she took my hand and prayed that God would bless me with his loving peace. I felt like she was an angle placed right where and when I needed her. The next day as I was sitting in my sacred space, the void of Ollie was overwhelming. His presence always played an intricate part in helping me to become centered. Feeling unable to concentrate on anything, I started flipping through my “Science of Mind” Magazine stopping at an article called “Dog gone grief.” I couldn’t help thinking how much the title sounded like something Ollie would say in one of his post. The author Stef Swink was writing about the recent loss of her own 13yr old dog. She was reminded by a friend, that it’s ok to allow ourselves to feel life’s heartbreaks. “Deep love,” she goes on, “is worth the pain! If you are in anguish, allow it and honor it.” That’s what Tom and I are trying to do. It feels like we’re on roller coaster of emotions, same as we were when we lost our loved ones. There’s the ups and the downs, the twist and the turns, and the downhill screams allow me to cry as loud and as hard as I need to, letting my tears heal my heartbreak. I talk about my grief, because I can only share what I feel. But both Tom and I know by the grace of God our “dog gone grief” will slow down when the time is right. It is then that we can sit with the treasured legacy that “Sundays with Ollie” has yet to offer us.
Tom tries to lighten the mood by telling me that Ollie is with our other dogs now, his brothers, and knowing Ollie he’s probable chasing them all over the place in heaven.
I can hear him saying his favorite line, “I’m a lucky dog, indeed!”
As I read this quote the first line to the hymn “Blessed Assurance” sang in my head: “This is my story this is my song,” that one day I will find the right words in our human language to describe the simplicity of God that He’s shown me in my own life. We are the ones who make things more difficult than He ever intended them to be, but learning that is a lesson for each of us. Because we are all so different it’s as if we speak another language at times to each other. I’ve learned to accept that. Maybe I’m just not the one who can bring that clarity into their life. That being said, as one who is impelled to inspire, I love finding different ways to express the simplicity as it is reveled to me in my own life. This is my story, this is my song to be an extension touching pen to paper, letting go of ego, being One with God, letting the right words flow as simply as they come.
I’m sitting out on the deck letting the autumn sun warm my cold bones. I notice threads of spider webs sparkling in the sunlight connecting one thing to the other. It reminds me of something I once read about the golden thread of Divinity that runs through each of us connecting one to the other. Like the spider who creates a beautiful lacy web, we can spin and weave a beautiful tapestry of our own life with the golden thread that exist within each of us. Like the spider what we create comes from within. The finished product reveals the effort we put into our weaving on the outside.
I feel like I’ve caught a illiness. It’s the dis-ease that’s going around. It’s no one’s fault but my own for allowing it. My immune system has been comprised by my lack of focus on the better things in life. My mind is foggy and my inspiration is zilch.
So I pick myself up, dust myself off and dig beneath muck to free my inner spirit. Like a bad cold it takes time and work to bring my true-self back. I think I need a good laugh to lighten things up. Anyone have a good joke?
Maybe she’s simple embarrassed to be seen as the first symbol of freedom and justice for all?
Maybe she’s irritated with the two candidates running for president who don’t represent the county she has stood many years for?
Maybe she feels like the country she’s come to represent is falling apart?
Maybe right now she represents how we all feel?