The Sacredness of Each Breath

I had more than a year to love; I had almost 10. I knew one day I would say "Goodbye" to my sweet companion; I just didn't know it would be today. But then, we often don't have the privilege of knowing when we're having our last moments with our loved ones.

My dog Maia died suddenly about an hour and a half ago. I heard her coughing on her bed, went immediately to her side and knew she was dying. Helplessness. I could do nothing but talk to her and hold her in love while she took her last breaths.

I wonder when she knew she was dying? I wonder if she knew I was there, and if she wondered why I didn't make it better like I usually can. I wonder if she slipped easily and freely into expansiveness, despite the panic and tears in my voice: "Maia? Maia? What's happening? What's happening... Oh Maia, it's ok Baby, it's ok..." I wonder if she was just as surprised as I was, or if she was ready.

Can we ever be ready for Death?

This morning my Sweetie and I took Maia for a walk with our friend and her two Great Danes, Maia's best buddies. They had fun and I even commented on how good she looked, running about with her eyes bright, ears perked and tail high - sure signs of happiness. She looked good and felt stable and healthy.

What happened? My mind churns over this pointless question, wanting to know an answer. Blood clot; I bet she threw a blood clot.  But it doesn't matter what it was. The real dilemma is grasping the notion that something can go from such joyful vibrancy to death in a matter of hours or even seconds. One minute, she's resting comfortably on her bed; the next minute, she's gasping for breath... and in a matter of seconds, cold, lifeless, empty, vacant, dead...

At least she was comfortable and content when she died. At least I was with her. At least she didn't suffer... I try to comfort myself with these thoughts, but they don't really matter. My heart is still heavy.  Lady Death leaves a hole in the heart no matter how graciously She passes.

Ironically, in two days I'm hosting a Circle Call about dealing with the body after we die. And I just spent over an hour trying to get my dog's body dealt with on a Sunday when no one wants to deal. We finally connected with a vet who has a heart and agreed to meet us at his clinic to freeze the body for pick up and cremation next week. What an Angel. After many calls to unyielding souls, this man opened his heart to humanity and took responsibility... and I don't even use his clinic! This man gave me a sense of hope for humanity; thank God for such Beings...

So here I sit, heavy-hearted, shocked, grief-stricken and empty. I'm grateful to my Sweetie and our dear friend Christine who came immediately at our call, and is helping deal with the body as well as my heart.

Ironically, today is the 10th anniversary of 9-11. We were having friends over to honor what we'd carried forward from the 9-11 experience 10 years ago, to share loving community in its shadow and to recognize that each moment is truly precious and fragile, no matter how stable it may feel.

Today, I deepen into a new level of gratitude for life... all life, and the love that flows through it every day. May we hold this precious gift in grace, recognizing that each breath is truly sacred.