There it is and gone in a flash. I missed it. Every time I watched the neighbor’s dogs playing in the yard. It slowly grew. I didn’t even notice. Something about human nature was at work, the need to make those connections, our hearts crave it. Was I healing and not even aware of it.
I love to start my work day with a cup of green peppermint tea. It is such a refreshing way to wake up. This day was going to be different. So blissfully unaware of what this moment meant, how my life’s path would be forever altered. I was going to get a gift. There are gifts given to us every day, many go unnoticed. Some given with a sort of unforgiving brutality and seem to not be gifts at all. They can be so hurtful and our energy gets lost there. Slowly we give away our power to these hurts, often not realizing we should be looking for the gift.
I would find a great gift today; the realization handed to me in such an ordinary event. I was steeping my tea in my Smart Women Thirst for Knowledge coffee mug. Holding the cup to warm my hands, I remembered to check the tiny paper tab at the end of the tea bag. To read the enchanting little statement printed on the tab. I set the cup down and flipped the tab over. I held it in my hand and read “The moment you love, you are unlimited”.
I knew immediately what this was. This was Panda’s gift. In her life and death, she wanted me to know this in my being. The gift was there; I could not see it through the pain. The pain was crippling, but I had to endure it.
I had spent all of this time breathing life into my dead pain, when all along it was always a beautiful gift. It had taken me 2 years to see her quietly and patiently holding out this gift for me to take. I looked at our life experience again, now with new eyes. So many times, we miss the rainbow after the storm. We miss the entire point of the experience; instead we concentrate on the person who hurt us or the agony of the event.
Funny, it still took me a few months of watching the neighbor’s dogs playing, even after I knew I could move on. Watching anything and everything dogs on Animal Planet. I never stopped watching those shows. I don’t know why, because they would often make me so sad.
Finally, the day arrived. It was a warm early June evening, around the two year anniversary of Panda’s death. The icy air had just lost its grip after a long winter and it was quite a pleasant evening. I do remember the sky was a most brilliant blue.
Dan was getting home from a long bike ride and I walked down to get the mail. We stopped in front of the mailbox at the bottom of the driveway to chitchat. I was standing beside him, while he was still sitting on his bike.
There, I had done it. Frozen in time, I remember the look on his face. I don’t think I have ever seen this particular look before or ever again for that matter. Not like this moment.
I understood, because I couldn’t believe it myself. The words just fell out, so easy they spilled off my tongue. I told him…I told him, we could get another dog if he wanted to.
He broke off my gaze and his head turned forward staring out into space. His eyes were glazed over, he was gone. After what seemed like forever, I asked him if he was okay. For a moment, I really thought he was going to say no. He didn’t want another dog. I think I was holding my breath. That isn’t what he said. Instead, he turned to me and said he never, ever thought he would ever hear me say that. He was stunned.
Panda – May snowflakes fall softly upon your fur, until we meet again.