IN LOVING MEMORY OF MAIA MADISON
November 30th we said goodbye to our beautiful lab Maia Madison. This is our third send off this year and our hearts are beyond sad. Our loving dobie, Teagan passed over May 6th; my mom July 21st and now Maia. For me, I want to find how to celebrate all that was and not lose myself in the grief. And yet, grief continues to be my constant companion. I know time lessens the pain – sometimes time doesn’t move as fast as I’d like and then others, it seems to rush by too swiftly.
It has brought me to reflecting, once again, on the impermanence of life. It surrounds us. The seasons blend from one to the other. In Fall the leaves find their way to rest on Mother Earth, during Winter those leaves feed the soil preparing the land for the planting in Spring with the Sun providing much needed warmth for the plants to grow in Summer. We see impermanence as we watch the phases of the moon; each day we experience day becoming night and night becoming day again. When we stand on the beach and waves find their way to shore and then, go back out again - there for only a moment, we witness impermanence.
I’d like to say I’ve got this. That I know how to walk through this and find beauty in the knowing that each of them brought so much to my life. In my most vulnerable and raw place, the truth is, I feel lost in the grief. When I felt I was beginning to find peace in Teagan’s passing, my mom suddenly got ill and made her transition. And now Maia’s passing. It feels like when I was a child playing in the ocean. There were times I would get tumbled around in the waves feeling frightened that I couldn’t find my way up and then I saw a flicker of light and knew which way to go. I don’t know which way to go. Each time I feel as though I can see a flicker of light, another wave crashes down and I begin to tumble in the waves trying to find my way out once again.
What I do know, it takes courage to face ourselves and walk through the barren lands of our own lives; through our sorrows, losses, mistakes and misgivings. Years ago, I came upon a writing by Barbara Rohde I’d like to offer. “We stand at the edge of a true wilderness. No one has entered it, nor worn a path for us. There are no maps. When we leave this place, we must each find our true path. We must walk alone”.
In the end, we each walk our path and hope that when it becomes too difficult
to traverse, a light will appear, and we will find our way once again. I spoke with a friend and told her I don’t know how to do this. Her answer, what a blessing that you don’t. So simple and yet so profound. Yes, indeed what a blessing I don’t.
Blessings to you and yours,
Janet (aka Crone)