Holiday Madness

I need to talk about how frustrating technology can be sometimes. My dear friend, Joelle, and I have been trying now since we returned from Isla Mujeres to get the pictures from her camera to me, and my laptop. Do you think that two fairly intelligent people ( well, me being the fairly intelligent one and her being the real smarty pants) can figure out how to do this? Obviously, the correct answer is 'NO'. So I am just going to do the best I can to just chat with you about what we did, who we met, things we ate and how it looked. Simply put, the ocean was the most beautiful color blue ever. Even in the pictures (I have actually seen them) the color does not look real. The temperature was just perfect and the water was crystal clear. The beaches were clean except for the occasional bits of plastico that Mexico is so famous for, and some rebar and some large cement building blocks half-buried in the sand and various bits of flotsum & jetsum. Not bad for a part of the world that regularly gets destroyed by hurricanes. In fact, the island for being so exposed and battered by the elements, looks remarkable. I need to mention that this time spent on Isla Mujeres with my dear friend was for me a turning point in what has been kind of a traumatic year. Without delving into the sordid details (already been talked to death), let's just say I was spiraling down and didn't feel able to stop the ride. For the first time in my life, I wasn't able to see my way back to me. Living in this state of distress was not an option. With a little help from my friends (and you know who you are) I am happy to report....I'M BACK ! Okay, more on the holiday in posts to follow and who knows maybe, just maybe we'll be able to figure out how to transfer pictures. This is probably why I should of had a kid!

Out of the Woods

Ahhhhhhhh. Back from the heat and humidity and utter chaotic beauty and absurdity of Mexico to the lovely, crisp, cold, white north. My two weeks away was precisely what the doctor ordered and the patient is resting comfortably and her prognosis is good. My send-off by David Byrne couldn't have been more perfect -- to see and hear him perform a mere arm's-length away from me was a dream come true. I believe that night got me out of the wilderness of despair and opened the door to "a million possibilities" (to quote DB himself). More tall tales to follow regarding my BIG FAT MEXICAN ADVENTURE as soon as I get my thoughts in some sort of order. Perhaps, manana?

Worship Begins in Two Hours

At this moment I am ensconced in a beautiful hotel a mere 50 or so metres from my idol, David Byrne. He appears to be ensconced in a big motorcoach parked directly across the street. So close. So very close. In less than two hours the 'assencion to heaven' will begin. I can honestly say that for the first time since Cowgirl died, I feel that the world is not totally dismal or distressing. I actually laughed when I thought about how much she would have adored this room and would have loved to have been here. Sigh.

Flying Away (for awhile)

It's time to try the environmental cure. Off to Mexico to embrace the distraction that only travel to a semi-third-world country can offer. I mean that in only the kindest way -- I love Mexico and I love it in all its glory -- I don't think it needs to be 'fixed'. I am looking forward to the chaos, the basura, the street food, speaking spanglish and getting my head back on straight. Sometimes all it takes is a sit-down with some gritty reality, a few mosquito bites, some heat & humidity and a good long time spent with a good friend, one-on-one, in a world not our own. Mexico is so accommodating that way. Attending the David Byrne concert on 18th February and will post a full report probably from Mexico -- talk about the ultimate trip to heaven -- I worship the ground he walks on.

In The Company of Friends

I am just going to dive right into this obsession. Among the hurt and all the sadness of losing Cowgirl to the horrible 'hemangiosarcoma' I have discovered a community out there of others who have gone through or are going through the same experience and I wish to thank them. If there can be comfort to such intense pain it has been for me to be in their company. I now know I am not crazy. I now know that life is just a random and thoroughly unpredictable gift that we are given. It will end. It does end. Truly, no one gets out alive. I only found you after Cowgirl had died and that was because I was in such denial after her diagnosis. I did do lots of medical research and found out all about the 'abc's of the disease and it was all bad, bad, bad. I felt that my dog would be different. My dog would not die in that horrible way. Well, of course she did and I was left trying to figure out how to bring her back. That's when I found, "Tucker", "Indiana", "Dozer", "Spencer" and "Addie". You are the ones (whether or not you know it) who are getting me through. Words aren't always adequate, but in this case they are all we have...so thank you all for sharing...your love and your heartbreak. I miss my Cowgirl. I'll always miss my Cowgirl.

Happily Ever After

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours at the local animal shelter and helped out in the office a little bit. I wasn't ready to be with the dogs yet but of course I could hear them in the back every now and again, howling or barking. Mostly, though it is a quiet and peaceful place run by a woman who I am guessing is an angel in disguise. I did get to see a big, goofy 10-month old dog begin the rest of her life. It was quite a happy occasion when the person came to collect her new dog and was just so excited and happy to be doing so. This big mutt was going home to 30+ acres of mountain paradise and into a family of two other dogs (also from this shelter) to begin a great life. A sweet moment in time that is just the beginning of so many more. Like so many 'puppies' this one had no idea how much love was to come her way and how much she was going to give. Of course, my thoughts were on Cowgirl and remembering the moment she became this object of affection for me and me for her. We had had her for a few days but she was still pretty oblivious. We were down at the harbour near where we lived in California and she was running around as silly puppies do, and I called her name and she heard it and for the first time, she came running...all the way back to me. Needless to say, that was the beginning of our affair.

Are You Laughing at Me?

..."kindness to all living beings is the one true religion"...and I cannot imagine anyone not embracing that. There are those of us who choose to direct our kindness in our own personal ways. We do not feel a need to advertise our efforts or defend our choices but that does put us at the mercy of others and their opinions. Regardless of what modern thought would have you believe, we are not all 'remarkable'. In fact most of us are not. Most of us are pretty average. Harsh? Well, I don't mean it to be. All I am saying is that if all we do is live a decent life and choose who and what we love, then isn't that okay? What is remarkable to me is that I chose to love this dog...and my thoughts are on her all the time and I miss her terribly. It may be hard for some of you to understand the depth of the grief but, I know that there are many more of you who totally understand and from that there is a comfort. I am still going on those pointless walks and still having those moments of intense sadness, but I did smile today when I found this picture of Cowgirl laughing.

'bestlove'

Missing so many things...so many little moments that were so insignificant at the time, yet, when they are gone there is a pretty large empty space. Putting things into perspective more and more as the days drag into the weeks yet wanting to hold on to the silly little routines that the 'girl' and I shared. The one that comes to mind today is how she let me know, everyday without fail, that it was 5 o'clock and it was her dinnertime. How did she know that? Even when we turned the clocks forward an hour (her favorite day) she compensated for the change and still reminded me of the 'sacred' time. She didn't like the autumn so much when we turned the clocks back an hour and would complain about that until, of course, I gave in and fed her. And what about the 'self-taught doorbell' thing? In all the years we lived together, we never lived in a house with a doorbell. But, everytime Cowgirl heard a doorbell sound on the TV she would run to the front door and sit and wait for us to open it. I can't describe the look of disappointment on her face when the door was opened and there was nobody there. She absolutely adored company as any of you that knew her could attest. Then, of course there was her rule about no bath taken without her supervision. I think this one was because she was so relieved that it wasn't her in the tub and she just had to see it to believe it. I always, always got a kiss while in the tub as a thank you. I miss that, a lot. She was the funniest puppy and I so want her back.

The Winter of my Discontent

...and so it begins...the slow pulling up out of the abyss. This sadness is like being wrapped in cotton and words sound like underwater noises, a foreign language. Nonesense. No sense. But let me see if I can put something together that makes some sense. First of all, I have been touched by the outpouring of compassion, sympathy and empathy from so many people. I have felt so much love these last two weeks and it has been so soothing to the raw hurt. Although, I have had such difficulty speaking, the words catch in my throat, so many others have spoken so well. It has given me the freedom to honour the ending of a life that was to me a love affair of sorts. I would have to say it was the miracle of being in a relationship where I was never not loved...wow...that simply seems to be the heart of it. (This evening we drove out to the farm where the girl is buried and took in her view)