David, Peter and Jubilee are outside digging a place, a grave, for King under the fig tree. We spied three ripening figs. David and the kids are going to be at a two day meet this weekend. In a feminist fail and told them I did not want to dig a grave while they were away. King is still with us but he had another stroke or seizure in the wee hours of the morning.
His days are short and he is JUST a dog, but sometimes JUST DOGS bring a tenderness to the heart that allows unfinished mourning to flow.
We passed the fourth anniversary of the death of my niece in May. This weekend a cousin is finishing packing up her son’s home after his untimely death. Another friend just finished the trial over the wrongful death of her son. It is coming up on the anniversary of one of the death of one of my dearest friends 16 years ago. Another friend lost both her parents, who were also my friends, in less than a year. Summer stirs hearts and katydids drone on and on their song of sorrows.
Yes, King is JUST a dog, but he has also been a good friend and a faithful listener. We have cried several times today. We cried for his impending death. We cried for my sister. We cried for my cousin. We cried for friends and their losses. We cried for our own losses.
Life is hard. So are the pears. But life is also sweet. The pears, just barely. Life is beautiful when we release the illusion of perfection and embrace our scars.