A Grief Revisited

Not infrequently, we associate grief with a particular date, room, or specific place. 'He died on this day', or 'she passed at this place', 'in this room' and the day, the place or the room is altered, perhaps forever.

"I hate this place."

Surprised, my friend Ed asked why.

"I see him everywhere I look," I replied.

We were standing in a clearing about a quarter of the way up the wilderness path where my dogs and I once hiked.

"How long has it been?"

"Almost a year," I replied, stunned at my own statement.

There is no more powerful emotion than grief: Anger, rage, jealousy, hatred, lust, greed... name one; none comes even close. Thankfully, as my friend Ed remarked, time mitigates the rawness, the visceral and overwhelming nature of mourning; however, the alteration of our feelings about the place, the date, the room remain: We avoid them as much as possible. Where once there was joy, there is only a void.

We'd been there for to fulfill the requirements for our license renewal for our concealed carry weapon permit; I was there mostly because I needed the target practice. Since the instructor had 'passed' me, I left before anyone else and walked the fifteen minute dirt path back down alone. This time, when I'd 'see' the flash of a grinning face of my red Doberman, or sense him right around the corner, just ahead on the path or look back to see him racing down the path to me, I didn't wince.

Yesterday morning, for the first time in close to a year, Shadow and I did the entire hike, just the two of us. During that two hour hike, I saw my boy in so many, many places; at times, so clearly that it felt to me as he was there. There were a couple of bushes where Shadow and Ally would delight in finding and chasing lizards in the spring. Shadow stopped at those bushes and wagged his tail. I wondered if he felt our boy through some canine sense that at times I have learned to trust more than my own.

The two dogs were so very different: Shadow with all of the characteristics of the mostly herding dog that he is: Calm, patient, mellow, mostly trotting; Ally with all of the exact opposite: Wildly enthusiastic, mostly racing, excited about everything.

I am a dog lover. For me, they are an important part of my happiness; but never before had I been so intimately connected with a dog as with Ally. While sitting in my lap he could so clearly read my mind, my emotions reflected back to me in his eyes.

Since we came back from our hike yesterday, I have thought about our time up there, my arguably silly, even crazy visions of my beloved Doberman everywhere. And I wonder.