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Saturday, August 20, 2011

Thy sweet self, thy memory and love for me, comfort me

Thy sweet self, thy memory and love for me, comfort me

August 20, 2011

By Julie Kay Smithson, always Wiggles' mommy propertyrights@earthlink.net

Dearest Wiggles Blue Heeler, you who gave me your all, your whole earthly life, still give, each and every day. I feel you and your love, deep in my heart and soul. It is manifest in the way you still shore me up with your love. You come so near to me that I can still whiff your sweet, never 'doggy' fragrance, almost touch your soft and fine fur, and know that you love me, for all time.

It should not surprise me, that you remain so near and dear, after several months have passed. 'Surprise' is not the right word, but in those grief-stricken first days, weeks and months, I dumbly did not understand that your love would be strong enough for me to draw upon, time after time after so many times. Did I think your love had an expiration date, because your earthly time in physical form did? If so, your mommy-me was foolish. I'm unsure what I thought would happen, but what has happened is a gift you continue giving. Your love breaths life into me when the times come that I seem unable to breathe without you. Your all-knowing eyes, which always looked into mine with quiet calmness and utter devotion -- even more exquisite after your physical ability to 'see' with those eyes had passed (I thought) -- still hold my gaze, still thrill my soul.

You and God weave so many miracles in my life, including that that is Good Boy. I am so 'short' with him sometimes, so unable to give him the unconditional love that my soul tells me he cries out for in his mute countenance, with his shy efforts to win my love. Wiggles, you are there in him so clearly, so strongly, and yet ... I cannot yet bring myself to simply fall to my knees and thank you, much as my actions should honor you in that way. Every moment of your life -- and now, in your eternal life and love -- you led me by your example. Why am I so fearful of allowing your love to completely flow through me and seep out into Good Boy's world? Do I fear that, if that happens, I'll somehow lose the strength that you give me to go on? I do not know. It is a complex thing, living here with your physical self ... I cannot bring myself to say 'gone,' for you are not 'gone.' You understand what words fall short of expressing at this time. You love me so completely that it does not matter if I cannot utter the 'right words.' Here I sit, trying to make my stunted, small self -- which cries out that you are not here, even when my soul knows that you are, and that you always will be with me -- believe that there are only one set of footprints, when I can see only one. Fool that I am, dearest Wiggles. When you needed to be carried, I would always pick you up and carry you. How can I not see and accept that you now carry me?

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