I did not want to write about grieving here in Florida, I wanted some perspective on the loss of Simon and Lenore, and on the process of grieving itself. This morning, I woke up early and thought I will be returning to a Bedlam Farm without Simon’s bray to greet me, or Lenore’s loving and cheerful presence. Two big spirits gone from our lives.
Their deaths were shocking and jarring and very sad.
Grieving is a process, I know, it has a life and a mind of it’s own. It will take it’s own time, and like a stream, flow on it’s own path at it’s own pace. Insofar as it a choice, I choose to be grateful for what I have, not for what I have lost. Insofar as it is not a choice, I respect and accept the process, which is different in every human being.
Sometimes, one or the other of these sweet creatures will pop into my head, and I will feel their loss in my heart, it feels like a plunge into a dark and cold place. It does not come often, or last long. In a month or so, it will be gone, the cup of life fills up automatically when permitted.
A friend of mine lost her mother recently, and several people have told her that they know how she feels, they have lost a dog or a cat. This was painful to her, she did not wish to have her beloved mother compared to a dog. Even when people mean well, I think, they sometimes forget in their rush to respond that people are not like dogs and cats, we grieve for the loss of either, but in different and personal ways. Perspective matters, it never seems right to me to put my own loss or grief onto anyone else’s.
Your loss is not mine, and mine has nothing to do with yours. What is often similar is our pain and sorrow, our feelings, and I understand that this is what people are trying to express, even when they are not sure how to do it. When I return home tomorrow I will take a deep breath, and let the grieving process do it’s work. I cannot control it or predict it or alter the course of it.
Grief is a part of life, human and animal, and if you live a life with animals you will learn about grief, it will find you and cast it’s own shadows. You learn to live with it, or it will corrode your spirit. It is a part of life itself. It’s good for me to return to this idea of grieving as I plan to return to the farm. Maria and I were surely wounded by it, we are conscious of our need to heal and to understand the pain each of us feels.
The support and sympathy from the world beyond us has been especially healing. Simon and Lenore did not belong just to us, they were your donkey and dog as well. That hurts, but it is also a wondrous and beautiful thing, I smile whenever I think of it. What could be more healing than that?
To the grieving process, I tip my cap and nod. You do your thing, I will do mine. I am grateful for the chance to live.