Sunday, November 10, 2013

Life Is Loving, Loving Is Life

A commissioned reading was scheduled for Friday. For these readings, the client and I schedule the day they are to call so I can make sure to have my cell phone with me and someplace with cell phone service (ie not the mountains at a silent meditation retreat). Since I don't know when they will call, it is still quite random. As usual, I had a full roster of errands so I would be in a variety of visual and cultural environments. It turns out that when they called, I was actually at the vet's checking into my dog's labored breathing and hacking cough. I took the first two photos there while waiting to get the final diagnosis, which was so shocking that I forgot about taking the third picture until I was at my next destination. Obviously, not good news. Two months ago I adopted a rescued dog who has been unloved for all of his 12-13 years but in spite of that, has been nothing but adoring, cheerful, bright and  and perkier than a 2 year old. And funny looking. Old Man Genkins has huge ears, he is missing half his teeth, his front legs are bow-legged, his kneecaps are in the wrong spot and his rear end is way taller than his front.  Imagine a rhinoceros mixed with a chihuahua. Sadly, he also has an enlarged heart and it's a matter of when it will rupture, not if. In shock, I drove on to the hospice facility where my mother is temporarily staying while my father takes a much needed break. She can't speak but she can sing, although I don't recognize any of the tunes. But it's easy to follow along with her since it's mainly a lot of "la la la's" and "dee dah dee dah dee dee dee" and she really enjoys my attempts to harmonize. After she fell asleep, I had time to think about the day. Rather than feeling depressed, I felt very much needed and very lucky that I was in a position to love the little dog as much as I can while I can so that his last days are happy ones. I believe this will no doubt involve bacon and walks. And after a life-time of being unable to help my mother's suffering from schizophrenia in any way, I cannot express what a joy it is to make her laugh and sing.  Eventually, I remembered that I was an Oracle and I took the final photograph and emailed all three to my caller. When I received her question, I replied that I wasn't sure if the images themselves answered the question but my activities I was involved in while taking the photographs were the answer to the question for me.

1 comment:

Cherry said...

This is a beautiful essay! It made my heart feel bigger.