Or white with black stripes?
And the zebra asked me,
Are you good with bad habits?
Or are you bad with good habits?
Are you noisy with quiet times?
Or are you quiet with noisy times?
Are you happy with some sad days?
Or are you sad with some happy days?
Are you neat with some sloppy ways?
Or are you sloppy with some neat ways?
And on and on and on and on and on and on he went.
I’ll never ask a zebra about stripes…again.”
~ Shel Silverstein
A flight of sorrow, a longing ache in
The pit of your heart.
Mind numbing grief and shock
The feeling dimension of being misplaced
Everything is so very wrong.
Lost, you’re just so lost without them .
Your old life only to be remembered
Wistfully, through tears and sobs.
Like piercing and breaking of bones in your body
The grief assaults you and beats you with its relentless attack,
Yet the silence screams at you in its fractured song.
Last month I lost a soul so close to my heart it has taken me this long to express it in writing publically. She was my Jasmi, my Jazzy Bones, my Squishy Pants ( and that’s only a few selected nicknames ). She was a dog , a bear, a seal, among many other animals. She endured years of medical treatment joyfully. She fought hard and long and did so with a wag of her wonderful little tail. Every part of Jasmine was and is precious to me. From the tip of her little snout down to the couple white hairs on the tip of her tail. Many people won’t understand the depth of my grief for a pet and I could write for pages on trying to make them/you understand but I won’t. It matters not why, it just matters that it is and that I feel the way I feel. My family centered around her. Our day was structured to suit her. Everything we did had Jasmine in mind.
As Cesar Millan so eloquently wrote of his Daddy ” ‘Daddy was my Tibet, my Himalaya, my Gouda, my Buddha, my source of calmness,’
Jazzy was the same for me. She could whisk my worries away with a gentle snuggle or a sweet look. Just snuggling my face in her fur was a perfect moment. If you know me at all, you know I’m a bit neurotic, so you can imagine how often I relied on her gentle, peaceful love to get me through the day.
This picture is for her. The necklace I wear in this picture holds a bit of her ashes so that I may keep her close to my heart always. I told her as she passed that I would love her endlessly. I do and I will.
I poured some good ole top shelf fake blood all over myself in your honorHappy birthday !