“Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith “A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!”
I printed this Robert Browning poem out today and took it out into the pasture, I had planned to read it aloud to him. And I did read it aloud, but as I read it, I realized the being I was thinking about was Maria, not Red.
People write me almost every day to tell me they are so sorry Red is failing, that they cry for him. Yet Red’s sickness does not move me to tears, and the thought of Red dying does not leave me choking on grief. I hope it never does.
I often feel people have an expectation of me that I have created, I do love Red and he and I have grown so close to one another. But I had dogs I loved before I had Red – you know many of them: Orson, Rose, Lenore, Izzy.
I was not happy or fulfilled, my life was empty and lonely and broken.
A dog’s place for me is unique, special, unlike any other living things in my life. Yet I never forget, and never allow myself to forget, the rightful place of dogs in my life.
They have always served us, from the time they inched up to the first cave, and were thrown the first food, and helped to protect people and join in the search for food.
Red is not here to drown me in grief, or to need Robert Browning’s poems. He needs to go when he is ready and dignity and peace, and I need to give thank for him and be grateful for the wonderful things we did together.
And to send him off with dignity, not across some silly Rainbow Bridge, but to the next chapter in his life, because a spirit dog like this will not be finished when he leaves me.
He will get the rest he needs, and go out and do it again. Red is not about grieving and bathos and drama, that is not why he came to me, not what he is about.
So I took this poem back and read it to Maria. I asked her to grow old with me, the best is yet to come. I believe that, I know that. She said yes.
Red has a place, and he belongs there, it is a different place than mine.
Our times are in His hand, trust God, see all, nor be afraid.
She wants to grow old with me, that is the miracle for me, that is what keeps a smile on my face and a strong heart.
That is who the poem is for.
I say this to Maria, and you, my friends and readers and companions, to everyone who reads my words and sees my pictures.
Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be.
I will grow old along with your blog if you are so inclined to continue
He wrote that poem for Elizabeth, so it is only fitting that you thought it was for Maria.
Beautiful. Your spirit dog idea makes me wonder about Bud’s sheepherding. Was he a Border Collie last time? Mmm
I love this poem. Had the first two lines inscribed on a watch that I gave to my then-sweetheart, now husband of almost 32 years.
Suzy, when I was 11 or 12, my teacher gave us an assignment to find a picture of what we thought represented “love.” I found a lovely picture of an older couple, and put Browning’s “Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be” lines under it. I didn’t get a very good grade; it was a parochial school and maybe the nun couldn’t relate. But I have always loved that poem.
have ‘followed’ you since your first books– your journey to find wholeness and sanity. . .I’ll be reading you to the end. We share the same age and a similar take on life. . . .keep on, good man!
My late husband and I had five dogs in our lives. I did cry when they died. They helped me through good and bad times. Now I am a widow. No dogs nor other pets now. My grandkids are getting older and are busy. I see them less and less. I am trying to find the me that is now! I am grieving for the man I met when I was nineteen. He died two months after our forty ninth anniversary. January 16, 2017. He was 81 .My father died January 15,1959 in a work related drowning on the Cuyahoga I was 12 and my brother and sister two and three years younger. Difficult to smile now!! We all handle life differently. Maybe I need a tougher shell! No more grow old with me! The best is yet to be! Sunday April 21 was my 73 birthday. Sometimes it is difficult to read all your posts. So much to accomplish alone now. Sometimes I need help. Daughter and her family not always available even though they live maybe fifteen minutes away. I hire when I have to. My husband was the photographer and computer expert. I am getting help with both. I am even texting on my flip phone. We learn what we must!