This page is dedicated to my family…they are my most favorite thing to write about and always will be.
The Composition of My Sunset
The Ties That Bind
Legacy, love, and loss…
A Very Different Kind of Love Story
Mother’s Day Thoughts from a Once Distracted Heart
Even Dogs Dream for More…Hank’s Story
The Composition of My Sunset
I am now officially forty years old. It seems so easy to make it to another birthday and start thinking about what you want to do next. What will be my “bucket list” for the coming years? How much is there still left for me to accomplish? To learn about? To love?
The past few days though, I’ve kept going back to something someone recently said to me – someone much more insightful and reflective than I could ever be. Someone I have so much admiration and love for…someone I’m lucky enough to call family. We were sitting together at my kitchen table on what had been a rainy Saturday morning and found ourselves talking about how fleeting life can be. But, instead of thinking of life in numbers of years, he described it in numbers of moments.
And that perspective has stayed with me, because it was both beautiful and heartbreaking.
And so very, very true…
For those of us who are lucky enough to be here for many, many years – we will see countless sunsets and live through more birthdays than we could ever individually remember. But what about those of us who are taken young? What happens to the sunsets we never get to see? Are they less lovely because the eyes of those we’ve left behind see them with less radiance? Or, are they brighter because we are remembered and now a part of their light?
I honestly don’t feel like I’ve been here for forty years. In so many ways, I still believe I’m growing and changing and trying to become who I’m supposed to be. But, perhaps that’s all a facade so that I don’t have to face the truth – that time is rushing by too fast and I’m thoughtlessly looking past each moment, because I assume there are still so many more sunsets ahead.
And so now I find myself here, celebrating another birthday that has been gifted to me, while also asking myself one very important question…
If today was my last sunset, what would I see?
What joyful silhouettes would dance in between the orange, red, and purple bursts of color? What have I allowed myself to feel…breathe in…to grasp with both hands? Even as each new day has brought moments that will come and go, many lost in the cavern of my forty-year-old mind, which ones have stayed and are now the foundation for the canvas to which my heart is painted on?
When I now think of the composition of my sunset, it honestly surprises me how easily the memories come…for there are so many more than I believe I deserve.
I am laying underneath my mother’s piano as a little girl, listening to her play the most beautiful music I have ever heard…
I can feel the air brushing past my face as my father runs with me through our living room, pretending we are a spaceship moving at light speed…
I see my childhood room with bunk beds that are perfectly arranged so that my younger brother and I can make forts out of them every weekend…
I find myself sitting in a crowded college cafeteria with my two best friends…women that will shape me for the next twenty-two years…that will teach me how to be brave, and good, and true to myself.
I am in the audience as my sister delivers a performance that brings tears of happiness to my eyes, because the entire room is united in excitement as she steals the show…
I can feel my heart beating out of my chest as my future husband takes my face in his hands and kisses me for the first time…my last first kiss…the one that makes me realize I was made to be with him forever…
I watch the baby brother that I used to take care of on Saturday mornings, smiling the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, as he plays with his now three-year-old daughter…
I am dancing on stage in the Nutcracker…I feel the sun on my back as I stand on top of an island hillside, looking down on the landscape below, where I will trek each day to complete my graduate research… I see my oldest dog as a young puppy again, running towards me on the day I first brought him home…I am listening to music, laughing and dancing with friends, late into the night…I can hear my nieces giggling as they chase each other up the stairs…I am surrounded by family on my grandparents’ porch, shoulder to shoulder, arms entwined…
I can see it all so perfectly…my sunset of hope and beauty and love everlasting.
I have truly been given so very much.
Even though I am not perfect…
Even though I am not better than anyone else…
Even though there are others who should have had more sunsets, but didn’t…
And gratefulness is pouring from my soul – bursting out as its own ray of color, to become a part of the sunset that has cast its light on me for these past forty years. I so hope that there are still many more beams of light to add…my number of moments building themselves up and reaching further out into this awesome world. For this sunset…my sunset…is not ready to disappear completely from the horizon. It is still blending and blurring into another glorious sunrise.
My sunset is still radiant…as is this life.
(Originally posted June 2017)
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The Ties That Bind
What is family to you? I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately…about how much I’ve been given when it comes to my family and what that means. I often wonder what I did to deserve them – to be chosen by the brightest light of all to be a part of their legacy. For they have been there to look up to as I’ve learned to traverse not just one straight road to adulthood, but the various winding paths, detours, and roadblocks that have come my way. They have given me guidance when I’ve reached out for support, and have tried to not only teach me compassion, but ferocity. They are the ones who tell me when I’m wrong, when all I want is to be right. They listen when I cry and laugh when I’m silly. They reach out for no reason, other than to hear about my day. They rejoice in my accomplishments and they have made me more than I ever could be alone. They truly do live in every single space of my heart.
And to this day, I know that I’m still striving to be the best parts of who they are – both together and apart.
This past year, I’ve tried harder to do everything I can to keep my word and be there more for my family. In some cases, it’s been to celebrate…in others to grieve…and luckily there have been the trips that just fell into place. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that each and every time I did it, I came back home feeling more fulfilled…more blessed…more me.
>A week ago, I got off a plane with my gorgeous sister and we walked into the arms of our devoted father and our ever so amazing grandmother. For you see, it was her eightieth birthday and three months ago we made a promise to be there with her. It was one of the best promises I’ve ever made good on too, for with it came so many priceless moments. Moments that can only be created when you are surrounded by the very people who are your champions, your protectors…the source of your greatest strength.
I am proud to say that my family has always been an unwavering bright circle, dazzling in that it was created out of a respect for tradition and an enduring desire for us all to be together. It has become even stronger as it’s grown over the generations…but, I have to say that I’ve seen it at its most genuine and poignant over the past few months.
Especially over last weekend, as it surrounded my grandmother – Laura.
She would be the first (and only) person to say that she isn’t special – even though she is the one I think we all most hope to be like when we “grow up”. She is generous beyond measure, will not stand to be taken advantage of, and always speaks the truth. She can carry herself softly among a crowd, but she has never shied away from adventure, always grabbing opportunities with both hands. Proof of this lies in the fact that before any of us were even here, she trusted my grandfather and moved to this country to build this ever beautiful life that we are all now a part of…she was so young and everything was so new, but it didn’t stop her. She learned English, while never losing the ability to speak Spanish flawlessly – and together, they ran a successful business for over thirty years, while raising educated and accomplished children.
She is so unknowingly spectacular…
And each and every day she emanates kindness and adoration, most especially to her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I truly believe she holds the most radiant wishes and dreams for us…as the resident of the best part of ourselves…the keeper of our hearts.
How I loved watching her face at what could only be one of the most joyous celebrations I’ve ever been a part of…I could see her eyes soaking in every single moment – not one thing went unnoticed. Her heart was so full, every emotion vibrating from her spirit and bringing many of us to tears. It was absolutely fantastic to watch, and it made me ask myself why I don’t do that more in my own life. Why haven’t I remembered that for every disappointing day, there are stunning moments like this one that take your breath away?
My grandmother really is the brightest light of us all…the one that always leads the way…the energy that the rest of us revolve around. Her underlying harmony alone keeps us all in sync, like the moon soundlessly directs the tides. She is, and forever will be, our undeniable role model.
And as I stood there leaning against the side of the house where my grandparents raised seven children, soaking in the excitement radiating from them, their spouses, and my cousins, I could feel the energy living inside the walls and…I could feel my grandfather.
I wasn’t surprised though, because he had been everywhere with us that day.
I know that I saw his face in the crowded restaurant at breakfast. For a moment, I had forgotten why he couldn’t be there and simply felt a calmness and familiarity as I caught a glimpse of his smile before someone walked past and he was gone…
He was in the flowers that my grandmother put on his grave earlier that day, bright and blooming – soaking in the sun’s rays…
He was in the music that the mariachis played that afternoon in my grandmother’s honor, and with each of us as we less skillfully, but gleefully, danced with her one by one – still trying to guide our steps…
And he was on the front porch that we all crowded together on that evening, as we sang happy birthday. There were two lit candles and no wind, but when my aunt handed her the cake, my grandmother held it gently towards the sky where we knew he was sitting…and one of the candles calmly went out.
It was marvelous how quickly it happened…it felt like I had witnessed a small miracle. But I wasn’t the only one who knew it was him – and I know why.
Because family is never-ending love…and that kind of love can never be lost. Family is made up of the ones you’ve come to cherish – and it is so much deeper than the bloodlines we share. Family is the faithful ones who treasure you…the vigilant ones willing to be on this journey with you…the beautiful ones that sit shoulder to shoulder next to you on a crowded porch…and the magnificent ones that watch over you from somewhere among the stars.
Life is so short, even when it’s lived to the fullest. Blow kisses to the ones you love…get on planes to see them…take pictures…dance with your grandmother…be the sun that shines down on someone today.
And please, please…soak in every moment. I know I will.
(Originally posted November 2016)
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Legacy, love, and loss…
When I was a little girl, I never wondered about my legacy. I didn’t stop to think about where I came from and what that meant. I think it’s because I didn’t have to worry about being alone or what it would be like not to be surrounded by family. Although growing up is always a challenge, my experience was full of beautiful moments. And now, as an1 adult, I carry with me consequential memories that are still bright and clear around the edges. I may have lost some of them through the years, but the ones that matter…the ones that are full of the people who have always encouraged and believed in me are still there – running in the background of my mind and reminding me that I am part of a strong and loving history.
I was lucky enough to be raised by two parents – a mother and a father who were genuinely proud of their children and that truly did teach us how to be good people. People who would go out into the world and try to be more, not because it would be easy, but because it was our responsibility to make the most of the life that we’d been given. They expected excellence, because we could attain it. They asked for honesty, because it was the only way. They didn’t listen to excuses, but fostered accountability. And they were never, ever cruel…which means to this day, neither are we. Although they didn’t stay married, we never suffered because their commitment to us never faltered. Our accomplishments are weaved together by every sacrifice, strong word, and supportive action. Our joys are heightened by their exuberance…our losses, cushioned by their compassion…and our fears, squashed by the swords forged from their love.
As a grown woman, it is only now that I think of where I came from and what that means. I look at the life I have, and can’t help but see evidence of my parent’s influence everywhere. Their successes paved the way for mine and their never faltering presence in my life is seen in the photographs that hang on the walls in my home. A home that I have because I was told I could do anything – as long as I did it with a pure heart.
I am here no doubt because of both of my parents. Today though, it is my father that is heavy on both my mind and my spirit. For you see, today my family lost our patriarch – my grandfather…my father’s father…the foundation everything this family is built on. He is the valley that all of our hopes and dreams grew out of…he is the mountain that stood tall and proud and protected us…he is the sky that we looked to at night – so bright and full of stars. I know that he lived a full life. I know that it’s culminated in children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I know that we have to be grateful for the time we had with him. I know all of this…but it doesn’t make it easy to say goodbye. It doesn’t take away the dull ache that’s been in my heart all day…it doesn’t comfort me.
It does make me proud though. Proud to be his granddaughter…proud that I do come from him…proud that he was there for all of the “big moments”…and so proud that he gave me my father.
When I was a little girl, my father (my daddy – which is what I still call him to this day) would write me notes. I still have one of them. It’s dated from 1987. He wrote that note for me almost thirty years ago, but I haven’t forgotten it. I keep it in my jewelry box and pull it out every now and then when I find myself missing him. I’ve never told anyone about it – he probably doesn’t even know I still have it. The words it carries are simple, but laden with everything every little girl hopes to hear from her daddy. It is my reminder that I come from love. And I know more than anything that he did that for me because my grandfather did that for him…because he and my grandmother didn’t just stop at bringing a family into this world, but they cultivated it. They showered it with kindness, protected it from the elements, helped its roots bury deep and firm into the ground.
My grandfather was a strong presence at every graduation, every wedding, every baptism. He saw more birthday celebrations than he could ever count and held so many beautiful newborn babies. When we all came together, he always lived each and every moment with us. In his final years, I know he was tired, but he still showed up. He still sat in the middle of the room and laughed with us, listened to our silly stories, sang for us. He still looked at us with love.
There are so many things that I know I’m supposed to be grateful for today, in the midst of all this mourning…but the one that keeps coming to the forefront is that I was raised by a wonderful father because he was also raised by a wonderful man – my grandfather. Everything he’s passed on to me, was also passed on to him. For it’s a circle you see…a beautiful, perfect circle that is rounded with no sharp corners because there is no other way for it to exist. A circle that encompasses my family, protects us, and radiates with delight.
Daddy, I had no words when you called me earlier today – because my heart was broken for you and for what every day would be like moving forward. But I hope to make up for that by the words I’ve put down now…in memory of grandpa…in celebration of you and our family. I don’t know your pain, but I know that the thought of you not being here takes my breath away. So, I can only imagine what it must feel like to have lost your own father. I truly believe, as I’m sure we all do, that he’s not really lost to us though. He lives in me and every single one of your own grandchildren. His blood runs through our veins…his smile is reflected back in every mirror in our homes…his strength will be something we continue to reach for…and his heart still beats in you. For you are his son and I promise you, he is so very, very proud of you. You did right by him. You always did.
And grandpa, here are my words for you.
I will remember so much…how you loved watching movies, how you always came to the phone to say “hi” when I called, how you danced with me at my wedding. I will remember playing in the backyard of your house – the house you raised a magnificent family in…the house that we all still see in our dreams at night when our subconscious reminds us of what it felt like to be young and free…the house that love built. I will remember seeing you in the audience when I graduated from college. I will remember you letting us all take turns driving your brand new yellow sports car, and then laughing when everyone made fun of me for driving so slow. I will remember you hugging my husband and what it felt like to have your approval when he first met you.
But most of all, I will remember that I come from you.
I love you so much…now and forever. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for every life that’s come into being because you loved our grandmother. Thank you for being our patriarch. Thank you for simply being ours. You have been so brave for so long…for all of us. Now it’s our turn. I promise we will take care of your legacy. I promise we will take care of grandma. I promise we will be everything you taught us to be.
I promise…
Goodbye my grandpa. Tonight, I will look up at the sky and hear your voice singing – along with all of the other angels…where you belong.
May your beautiful spirit rest in peace.
“La medida del amor es amar sin medida.” – San Agustín
(Originally posted July 2016)
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A Very Different Kind of Love Story
We met back in the fall of 2001. It was my mother who told me about him. She thought he would be perfect for me. She knew I wasn’t looking for something new to come into my life, but she asked me to think about it…
When I ultimately agreed, during the drive to meet him, I sat in the car and thought about the chance I was taking. That’s when the nervousness began to set in and I started hoping it really was the right decision. Sharing your heart with another living being is never an easy thing…an extraordinary, yet tremendous responsibility that is often not thought through. The moment I stepped out and saw him though, it was honestly love at first sight.
His face that day is still a bright memory, as is the way it felt when we first touched. There was an instant comfortability, obvious warmth, and overwhelming joy. It was as though we were meant to be together. And so, I knew there was no going back…
I was going to bring home another dog.
We named him “Ditka”, after the great coach for the Chicago Bears – not because I knew anything about football back then, but because my boyfriend at the time was a true fan. It also helped that he actually resembled a smaller version of a furry bear…well, a bear that happened to have one solid white paw. He was happy and sweet and gentle. Innocent – like all puppies before and after him. Sadly, I found out that he had lived only one night with a previous family because he was given back when they realized he had a problem walking. They wanted a “perfect” pet. It would actually take over five years for me to find out that his hip sockets had never developed correctly, and that the limp I hardly ever noticed anymore should have been a clue of the pain he lived with every day. But he has never let it stop him, even as he’s aged more and more.
My Ditka. So brave. So accepting of the reality of his situation. As most dogs are…
He has changed little since I brought him home all those years ago. Like his mom, he loves carbs – with bread and sour cream & onion chips being his favorites. He still faithfully follows me around the house every day, no matter how tired or arthritic he may find himself. After all this time…still my shadow…a shadow that is as much a part of me as my own. And never having been the kind of dog who loves all people, he also continues to pick and choose wisely who he’ll allow in his “pack” – a trait I’ve tried to adopt myself as I’ve moved along the slower aging (and slower learning) path of my own life. Because you really never should give your love away to just anyone…
As much as he’s stayed the same though, I have changed. For almost 15 years, he has been with me as I’ve awkwardly tried to maneuver both joyful and painful choices. He’s been there for my highs and my lows…laid by my side as I’ve grieved…watched in wonderment as I’ve celebrated…been a much needed constant during my 20’s when I felt like there was none. To some this may sound crazy, as I know you’re thinking he’s just a dog – but the thing is that has never been all he is to me. He’s my companion…a permanent member of my family…a true friend.
Unfortunately, I know now more than ever, that my time with Ditka is coming closer to an end. So, I’ve slowly been trying to accept the reality that although I do everything I can to make sure he’s comfortable and loved every single day, it won’t keep him here with me. It just can’t. I want it to so very badly, but when I look at him, I can’t deny that the years have crept up and are starting to entwine themselves around every part of him that used to be healthy, young, and vibrant. The silver streaks have become ever more prominent on his ears, and he sleeps so soundly now that I find myself anxiously watching for the smallest movement – the twitch of a paw…the subtle expansion of his chest as he breathes…the slight shudder from a dream. The years we’ve already had together are probably more than I could have ever expected, and I know I shouldn’t be selfish and want for more. But, it’s never easy accepting that which we cannot control – especially when it comes to loss.
When I took Ditka home all those years ago, I never once thought what it would be like to watch him age. Now I spend every day observing him ever more closely and feeling a tightness slowly building in my throat. I so want this last chapter in his life to be the best one. After everything he’s done for me, he doesn’t deserve anything less. How truly lucky we are as human beings that dogs never give up on us. I may not always be the best person I should be, but Ditka has never made me feel less than who I am. The very fact that he’s still with me after so long, makes me hope that I have at least done right by him – even when I didn’t always know how to do right by myself or others.
He has been such a good dog. I am so grateful for that day all those years ago. I can still see him running lopsidedly towards me, so unafraid. He jumped right into my arms as though he already knew who I was…and he has always chosen me over anyone else ever since. I know there are some people who don’t see animals as a means of learning how to be a better human being, but I’m not one of those people. I truly believe that I’m more patient, compassionate, and forgiving because I’ve always shared my home and my heart with them. And I can’t believe we have the capacity to love animals so much, but not carry that over to other important relationships in our lives.
I know Ditka’s spirit is getting tired. If only he could know how much stronger he has made mine…but I guess that’s not what dogs need. They don’t live each day wanting to be convinced they’re necessary. Instead, they give everything – even when they are scared, sad, or confused. They are the ultimate example of what it means to be ever faithful, only wronging us when we haven’t taken the time to teach them. And once we take them in, they will spend every day trying to be more than they are…
They live each day never pretending…always eager…authentic…full of love.
And as I sit here, with my loyal companion sleeping by my side, I can’t help but think of one thing.
If only we could all be so lucky.
(Originally posted April 2016)
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Mother’s Day Thoughts from a Once Distracted Heart
I don’t have children, so I honestly can’t say that I understand what it means to be a mother. I’ve watched my best friends make that commitment…my brothers…my cousins. I’ve thrown baby showers. I send big Christmas boxes full of presents every year. I call for birthdays. I try to do the things that good aunties do, but I’m not a mother and I don’t think I will ever be one.
That doesn’t change what happened to me a few days ago though, or what I’ve finally come to realize.
Regardless of the fact that I have never carried a child, taken in a child, or felt all-consuming unconditional love for a child, during an unexplained moment, my heart finally experienced a small fraction of what my own mother must feel for me. When it happened, it caught me so off-guard, that I still find myself thinking about it. The feeling now seems to have wrapped itself around my brain, slowly searching through memories, half-forgotten conversations, and once dismissed thoughts in an attempt to understand deeper.
It all started last weekend, when I went home for the first time in over a year. I only live one state away, but for months I’ve made excuses as to why I couldn’t make the trip sooner. There were so many, that it was easy to be lazy when it came to finding “a good time” to visit. I had started a new job, so I didn’t want to ask for time off too soon. We have had several people come to town every couple of weeks to stay with us. In the fall, we were preparing for the holidays. In the winter, weather always got in the way. Now that it’s spring, there are things to do around the house.
So many excuses…I see them all now.
When I finally did the right thing and headed home, it was for my mother’s 60th birthday. Birthdays have always been a big deal for my family, and of course, this was a monumental one. Sixty years of being on this Earth is no small accomplishment – but most especially when it has been spent raising four children, taking care of your ailing parents and watching them disappear to Alzheimer’s, being there for the birth of three granddaughters, and supporting friends by never saying “no”…all while trying to manage work and unexpected health issues.
My mom would never say that this makes her better than any other mother out there though. The motivations and experiences that make up someone else’s reality are not meant to be judged or criticized. She would merely say that she doesn’t know how to do things any differently. For her, it’s a gift to be needed. It’s her purpose. It’s the life that she has been given. Now, I know that not everyone has that kind of mother, but I do – and yet, I’m barely writing about her now.
My siblings and I joke about how my mom always says things like, “I just wish we all lived in the same town”, or “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all could be in the same house again, like when you guys were little?” Whenever my mom makes these kinds of comments, I used to think that she was setting herself up to be sad – because, of course, none of us is planning to move anytime soon. It has taken years for us to get where we are…to have lives firmly constructed around long sought-after jobs and homes filled with memories of friends that are special to us alone. I know that she is proud of what our lives have become though and of how much we have accomplished, which is the reason I could never understand why my mom would even allow the idea of all us existing under the same roof to swirl around in her mind. It just seemed like such an unrealistic thing to consider.
On the night of her birthday party though, it finally hit me. As we were all standing in my brother’s kitchen, talking and laughing about silly things that are probably only important to us, I felt a delicate, noticeable pain in my heart. It was then that I looked around the room at my family, which has truly grown from what we first were all those years ago, and finally experienced what my mom must feel when she longs for us.
I suddenly saw what she sees when we’re all together.
Joy. Affection. Playfulness. Sincerity. Appreciation.
All-consuming, unconditional love.
And that’s when everything made sense. In this crazy, busy world where I have allowed everything else to get in the way of making time for my mother, for my family, I finally saw the truth.
I have missed them so very, very much. They will forever be a part of me and they have made me stronger. I am proud to know them, to share life’s twists and turns with them, to be there for them. They are me and I am them…they are mine alone.
And that is what my mom must feel every single day.
Since that weekend, when I think about what I’ve been given, I have honestly felt ashamed. For almost 38 years, I have had a mother that has actually made time for me. She has always wanted to see me, to talk to me, to laugh with me…she has always been there. She answers the phone when I need her. She has dropped everything when I’ve called crying. She has prayed for me when I’ve been lost, and she has ached for me when I’ve been distracted. She has counseled me. She has been delighted for me. She really, truly misses me. Not everyone has that, but I do. And I haven’t cherished it the way I should. I’ve taken it for granted and that makes me sad because I should know better. For you see, my mom taught be better. She raised me right.
So, mom…today and every day moving forward, here is what I want to do for you –
I want to be the daughter you raised me to be. I will strive to be less distracted by the little things, while I revel in every moment of the life you have given me. I will make time for you. I will listen when you come to me, and I will reach out when I know that you need me. I will create opportunities to go see you, and I won’t let another year pass by before I visit again. I will remember the lessons you’ve taught me and share them whenever I can. I will do my best to make every day “a good and happy day”.
And I will always, always, love you…I promise.
More than the whole sky.
(Originally posted May 2015)
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Even Dogs Dream for More…Hank’s Story
Before, I never really had a family.
When I try to remember the beginning, there isn’t too much to think about. I lived outside. I lived alone. Sometimes I would get fed. Sometimes people would talk to me. Sometimes someone would pet my head.
But I was never loved and I was alone a lot.
I know now that it’s because the people I lived with didn’t like me. I think I made them mad, but I could never figure out why because I couldn’t hear them. I actually can’t hear anything – that’s how it’s always been for me. My ears don’t work the right way. They never have…and that would make me even lonelier. So, I tried to be a good boy and show the people that I wouldn’t mess up, but I was still always in trouble…and I was always sad.
I didn’t know what it meant to be sad at the time though, because that was all I knew. I thought it was normal. I thought it was what life was supposed to be, and so I didn’t complain. I really didn’t know how. I just lived day by day, hoping I could make them happy.
All I really ever wanted was to make them happy.
But it never happened.
I thought I would have lots of time to try, but then one day the people went away. I don’t know where they went, but they didn’t come back. Instead, other people came and I didn’t know what to do. Would they be mad at me too? What if their kind of mad was worse? It was scary to think about. It made me want to run away, but all I knew was the yard that I lived in. That was the only home I’d ever known. I couldn’t leave. I had nowhere to go.
The new people were different though…I didn’t understand at first, but now I know that they tried to help me.
One day, they let me inside the house! Inside the house! I was never allowed inside the house before! It was exciting, but terrifying! I ran through the rooms trying to find a safe place, but not knowing where to go. Nothing was familiar. Nothing was mine. It was too different! It was too much! All I wanted was to go back outside to my yard. So, the new people let me – but they didn’t give up. They kept trying to show me that being inside the house was okay. It was so hard though…I didn’t know how to act! I didn’t know how to relax. I didn’t know how to be in a house.
I did like the new people though. They would pet me more and they knew other people that would come over and pet me too. It would make me so happy when the people would pet me! It would make me too happy though, and I would get in trouble again.
It’s not my fault though! It’s just that when I’m happy, I like to jump high up into the air because the joy makes me want to fly! When the new people first started to pet me, I couldn’t contain my happiness! I jumped and jumped and jumped! I think sometimes I hurt them, but I didn’t know I was doing it. I had never known happiness before! All I knew was that I liked feeling good.
Since I was still learning how to be happy, the new people gave me my own spot in the house. I had to stay in there a lot when I was first learning. I was okay with it though, because I wasn’t alone outside anymore. I was finally where the people were, and that was enough for me.
Then one day, everything changed.
A lady and a man came to the new people’s house and they seemed to like me! They let me try to sit in their laps, even though I knew I was too big. They hugged me and rubbed my neck. They were nice to me for a long time and never pushed me away. For the first time ever, I felt like I made someone happy too. I finally did it!
When the lady and the man left, I went back to my spot in the house and thought about them. I hoped that I would see them again. I wanted them to be my friends.
It ended up better than that though.
They became my mom and dad.
They came and got me and put me in their car. I had never been in a car before, but I wasn’t scared. I wanted to show them that I could be good, so I sat very still and I made sure not to jump even once – even though I could feel happiness inside me! My new brothers were there too, so I was careful not to fight with them. I wanted them to like me. (I’m still not sure if one of them does, but he doesn’t seem to like anybody, so it doesn’t hurt my feelings anymore.)
The whole time my dad drove, I wondered where we were going. Were they going to leave me somewhere? Would I get to see them more after that day? I kept being really good, just in case it meant that I could be in the car longer with them. It was nice in there. I even fell asleep. When I woke up, we had stopped. They let me out of the car and I smelled all kinds of new things in the air. I wanted to stop and take them all in, but I didn’t know if that was allowed. So, instead, I followed everyone into a new house.
And that’s when I figured it out. It was my new house. This was my new life…with them.
Finally. A real family.
Every day now, I wake up in a pile of soft blankets. Because I can’t hear, my mom has to rub my face to let me know it’s time to get up. The moment I feel her hand, I leap out of bed and I’m wide awake! I can’t waste any time! Remembering every morning that I have a family makes my heart so happy, that I start to bounce around the room! Sometimes it makes my brothers mad, but I don’t care! I have too many reasons to be excited!
I had good dreams! I have a big breakfast waiting! I have a yard to run around and lots of good barking to do!
I have new memories to make! I have a mom! I have a dad! I have brothers!
I have a family.
And I am loved.
Every single day, I am so very loved.
(Originally posted April 2015)