Monday, July 23, 2007
Light in the Shadows
I wish I had some words of wisdom or some kind of insights or even something interesting to say or observe, but I don't. I have writer's block. Which is just as well; I need to focus on many things, and perhaps when a few things are knocked off my list I can stop being Martha and be Mary again.
Or something like that.
I still can't pay for Grad school, and today I read about osteosarcoma; Fire has weeks to up to 4 months, but given how fast this is moving, I don't think he'll make his next birthday, which is in September, according to his ear tattoo. And it weighs very heavily upon me because I will have to be the one to give the word. It's not time yet, his pain is being managed and I'm making accomodations for him in the meantime.
And I'm asking God what I should be learning right now, which is, maybe, going back to just living one day at a time. Realizing how precious life is, and how much things can change in a single moment. How much we all take for granted, plans we forsee, assumptions we make about the future, and then in a moment, it all changes.
I have to wonder, in all of this, what is really important? What is being lined up right now? What is God doing in the background? What is he asking of me?
I don't have any answers, not to anything. Not to my job situation, not for how to deal with Fire's terminal diagnosis, not for how to pay for grad school this semester or ever.
Tonight I'm just sad, and have been biting back tears most of the day. A couple women from the greyhound rescue organization have been in contact and have offered their support. Of the three of them, two have suffered this loss recently and let me know of their concern and prayers for us, knowing how it feels.
I guess it's just hitting me that this is for real, it's formal, and it's terminal. And the best thing to do is to let nature take its course. All I can do is wait and watch and pray, and thank God for the gift of life and the gift of love. Because no matter how painful this is, I would not take it back. I would not reject this gift, and I am willing to accept this because it is God's will for me in this moment. It is God's will for this dog, and one day, I will write about the spiritual lessons brought into my life by these humble creatures.
But not tonight. Not tonight.
Tonight is my night and even as I wander among these shadows, I know there is something more beyond them and so we will pass through this valley, never alone.
It's always hard to face losing a friend.