Where is my someplace?

My someplace is my journey.  It's like a cobweb with thousands of threads leading to thousands of places but always from a solidly  and masterfully designed center.

I remember this little girl who, being of rebellious nature and of inquisitive mind, took a walk one day and ended up 5 miles from her home.  She was interested in the way the sidewalk twisted and turned, and she was curious as to where it would lead.  So off she went, not thinking about consequences just wondering where the sidewalk would lead. 

Meanwhile, at home, her mother was frantic.  She did not know where her daughter went or disappeared to, or was she kidnapped?  She called the police!

The little girl, meanwhile, ended up at a supermarket where she found policemen approaching her.  They were quite friendly and so the little girl answered all their questions without fear.  Oh what a fun day this turned out to be for the little girl; or so she thought.

Her mother came to pick her up at the supermarket and was she ever furious!  The little girl did not know why. After all, she was fine, she was happy, and the policemen were so nice.

Later that day, her mother reprimanded her for being so foolish as to walk away from the house without telling anyone, but worse, from walking away from the house! Still the little girl did not understand.

Now the little girl is a woman and she continues to follow paths that lead her to someplace.  Every path was an adventure and every someplace was a place of wisdom. 

The cobweb is this person's being; the masterfully designed center is her spirit.  Without one the other just falls into nothingness.

And Life Goes On

Two weeks have passed since Sheba earned her wings and left to go be someone else's Angel.  I miss her, but now I am celebrating her time with me. She was a good dog, smart, obedient, serene, and oh so loving. She will serve her next mistress well and for that I am grateful.

Now, on to my next chapter in life, sans a dog, with a husband.  We've been married for four years, but are together for five years.  I met him in college, all those years ago, and never forgot him.  He felt the same.  Although our lives took different paths, forty-five years later we reconnected.  He is all I had hoped for and more.

Why do I love him?  Let me count the ways:

1. He makes me laugh, a deep and hearty laugh that comes from deep within.

2. He does the cleaning up of the dishes, pots and pans, when I do the cooking.

3. On the weekend he brings up the coffee so I do not have to get out of bed.

4. When he cooks, I clean up.  He cooks often. I don't mind the cleaning up part because it always ends up in a hugging and kissing fest.

5. He loves me unconditionally and believe me, I am not easy to live with.  Even I get frustrated with myself!

6. Weekends are full of activities, housework or house repairs be damned!  Hanging with my husband is as good as it gets.

7. My husband gets me.

8. I can go to him to sort things out and get a straight answer.

9. He is a man to respect and honor.  He is a rightous guy.

10. Arguments last no longer than a few minutes because we end up laughing about it.

11. Rarely, if ever, does he not say, "I love you".

12. The compliments are endless.

13. The surprises happen - and I never can catch him. That makes living with him so much fun.

14. He will do anything for me; just ask.

I can go on and on.  He will read this blog.  I don't want him to get a swelled head, so I will stop counting.

Until next time,

Karen

On the Passing of Sheba

May 6, 2000 - May 6, 2014

I had a dream, last night.  I was with Sheba, outside in the sun and warm air, playing and frolicking with her as we did when she was a puppy and young healthy dog. I laughed and laughed as she ran in circles or sprinted toward a squirrel. She always stopped everything when a rabbit or squirrel showed up!  This morning I awoke with love in my heart and a sense of joy and peace.  But, I am now awake, and the silence is deafening and the absence is heart wrenching and the joy is gone.

I am crying and I am mourning the loss. I know, in time, I will grieve less, mourn less, and speak about Sheba in the same loving way I speak about my mom who will be gone 3 years next month, and my dad who died in 1995.

I volunteer at an animal shelter and I volunteer as a senior companion for a legally blind 93 year old woman who lives alone.  Sheba and my mother live on in my heart through these mitzvahs.  They are proud of what I am doing and I can feel their nachus.

Sheba suffered ... and I wouldn't let her go.  Yesterday morning she told me, "I want to go." I laid by her side and she nuzzled my hand. Her breathing was labored and her eyes were so sad. I told her, "I know I am being selfish. I know you need to go. But I don't want you to go!"

I called the Visiting Vet Practice, they came that afternoon.

Sheba died at 4:36 in the afternoon.  She is at peace.  I decided to have her put to sleep at home and I am glad to have done so.  The Vet and her Technician were compassionate and caring. They handled the procedure in such a way one would not have known what was happening if not already aware.  Sheba went to sleep in my arms and appeared at rest and at peace.  There was nothing scary or alarming about it.  She looked as she looks anytime she is in my arms - loving and trusting.

And, yes, there was that sign...early this morning.  Unmistakable sign. She told me she wanted to go.  And so I let her.

God is merciful; it's just that sometimes we think he is not and that thought gets us into trouble.  Trust is a powerful word and an even more powerful emotion.  Right now I am trusting that God will get me through this, as he has in the past; and for that, I am grateful.

And then there is this...dogs that drive!  You gotta watch this video.  I bet, if the treats were good enough and plentiful, Sheba would just love to learn to do this for her birthday.  She may be thirteen when her birthday comes, but I will not be the one to take away the keys.

Sheba

Is this the lap of luxury? There she is in all her glory looking out as if to say, "Don't even think it!" My sweet Sheba.  Twelve  years old and smarter than me. 

She has trained me to give her a treat when she begs, give her water when she whines, and take her home when the walk is too long.  Wish I could get my kids to do that!   Only it would be cheese and crackers as a treat, wine for my thirst, and a trip to beach when the weather gets too hot.