Hope

“Hope reflects belief.

Hope believes in the better, in the higher, in the possibilities. Hope rejects criticism. People with a higher level of hope believe that though events may not work out, they will not be defeated. Hope is the dream of a soul awake.”   (author unknown)

I’ve been struggling with so many things the past few weeks. Doing my usual questioning, my normal carrying of grief and sorrow for things that seem to be slipping away. Struggling with what I’ve allowed, what I’ve believed in that hasn’t served me as much or as beautifully as supportive situations and people would have. But I have honored the discovery and uncovering. Felt somehow comforted that I’m becoming “more aware” or something, even though often times that process seems so painful and uncomfortable.

Several months ago, my granddaughter’s little dog got hit by a car, fought for six weeks before a vet figured out her insides had been all shoved up into her rib cage, causing so much stress on her lungs that only five percent of one lung was functioning. Somehow she stayed alive long enough for corrective surgery. I firmly believe it was my granddaughter’s touch, her love and her blind faith that kept Bella alive during that period of time. Surgery was a success and our little soul was back to bouncing and being her full-of-life self again within another six week time frame. But a few days ago, the outcome changed drastically and our tiny fighter’s health plummeted. Seizures. Loss of muscle control. No explanation. Test results that expected a liver disorder or damage came out “normal”.

When everyone else was suggesting we spare her, put her to sleep, I’ve fiercely held on again. Part of me believing that I need to adopt my granddaughter’s determination, will and absolute knowing/faith.  I keep thinking, surely if she came out of it once, she’ll come out of this. Day after day the vets and staff have diligently tried, they’ve listened, planned and advised.

Last night I brought her home and realized how much she has been suffering, how much she is no longer “present”. After holding her all night, watching her in her misery, we allowed her to "go" this morning. Letting go of that little Yorkie opened up floodgates inside but I can’t help remembering all the blessings she gave to us all, the smiles and giggles, the orneriness and puppy breath in your face moments, kisses on the nose… As I was taking her to the vet this morning, it occurred to me that now her energy will be more free to move and maybe part of that movement will be a surrounding of my granddaughter that will serve Emaleigh better from another place, another dimension. Surely it’s that easy.

Yesterday as I was holding Bella; petting her, talking to her, it dawned on me that I am projecting everything into this situation. I’m transferring all sorrow for my mother’s stroke, for her aging process that I cannot control; for what it means to me as a granddaughter and daughter of women who suffered from Alzheimer’s. I’ve been placing the sorrow I feel towards things I can’t control with my sons… past hurts, past experiences with seizures, surgeries, past moments of panic when I was afraid I was losing one son or another for one reason or another. Lost love, lost home, lost livelihood. Things that have been lacking. Relationships that shattered and dissolved and disappeared without my complete understanding. The fear of not knowing where time is taking us all. Everything seemingly negative – all wrapped up in a little furry bundle that no longer was able to be her real self anymore.

Maybe we're all just supposed to experience the moment. Allow cleansing tears and questioning so it’s easier to live inside a new day. Surrender to whatever is present and right in front you. Maybe hope doesn’t equate a blind faith. Maybe it’s simply the ability to step outside, feel the sunshine on your face, drive your car down the street and order a large chai tea latte with extra chai.