Sitting With Loss
This morning I got my daughter’s call telling me they had to put their dog Henry down. He could not move his back legs and was too old for surgery that may have corrected the issue. It broke my heart thinking of him unable to move.
When I was visiting my daughter just last fall, this was the dog who went into attack mode when someone tried to enter her house in the middle of the night. So Henry, the protector of women and children, is gone.
Last night we had tickets for an Adam Ezra Group concert. I thought it would be a good distraction. Partway through the show, the band members exited, leaving Adam and his guitar alone on the edge of the stage, singing the words to a Cyndi Lauper song.
If you’re lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting
Time after time
Time after time
Tears began rolling down my face. They weren’t from the loss of Henry, the protector. Instead, I was crying for the memory of not being protected by my parents. I’ll never understand why my parents thought it was a good idea to leave me at my aunt and uncle’s house when they went away. How could they not have known that this man was a pedophile?
At night, during my stay, I would creep into the dark hall and sit at the top of the stairs. I was alone and lost, begging my parents to come to find me and catch me as I was falling. Finally, after several nights they did retrieve me from the house. It just wasn’t soon enough.
It has been a challenging year, and I feel like I am falling and my safety net is fraying. I have an ex-son-in-law who believes that I and others are involved in a plot to hurt him. This person has bought a gun when instructed to by the voices in his head. More recently, he has followed a stranger for fifty miles and hit him with his car. The court system appears to have dropped the ball on this one, and the local police, while helpful, can’t guarantee to protect me should the need arise. They may not be able to catch me if I fall.
My sister, her husband, and their daughter’s families have just sold their houses, packed up their belongings, and moved 1,200 miles away. I am devastated that they have all left. I feel like that girl lying in that darkened hallway years ago, abandoned by my clan, my support system.
Usually, I would call my best friend, Janice, and throw a two-year-old hissy fit about my family moving. I could always count on her to listen to my rant without judgment. Before I knew it, we would be laughing, and I would feel comforted and able to face the day. But I can’t call Janice because she died last October.
As the concert was nearing its end, I felt worse than when I took my seat. The words, “Watching through windows. You’re wondering if I’m okay,” reverberated through my head. I keenly felt the loss of Henry the protector, Janice the encourager, my sister and her clan watching through my windows and wondering if I was okay.
And then, Adam and the band began their final song. Soon the entire audience was singing along to the words of Let it Be.
And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me
Shine on ’til tomorrow
Let it be
I trust I will be okay; this isn’t the worst storm I have weathered. I just need a little time.
With Love & Energy by the Pond,
Laurel
