Day 806
Miss Lilly had a wonderful visit at Walker today! Choosing the stairway to depart the second floor, instead of the elevator, was a mistake on her Mama’s part. Taking the single flight down to the lobby found Lilly tripping on the last two steps! Falling in a heap at my feet, my heart absolutely stopped! She just looked up at me with that patented “Lilly Smile” as if to say, “I need a little help here!” After a brief discussion between Mother and pup, we decided to lift her to her feet. Shaking it off, she trotted over to her beloved Doreen (at the front desk) and wagged her tail out the door! Whew!!!
I am is constant fear of an injury with my Goldens. I believe this is due to their lack of language. If they could just tell me where it hurt, my concern would be greatly lessened! Lilly has had sore legs, a bad back, UTI’s, ear infections, and a host of other ailments. Luckily, our veterinarians speak “dog” and have always been successful in curing our girl.
When my own children were little, I had the same fears. They couldn’t tell me what was wrong, so they were similar to the Goldens. Somehow, we survived, but language would have been a successful addition to those scary times. Communication is so critical!
There are so many times in our lives when we, much like children and dogs, fail to communicate what is wrong. Emotional ailments are so much harder to share openly than the physical ones. It seems that humans are more equipped to deal with a sore throat than they are with sadness, depression, fear or any other emotional challenge.
I was taught to hold my emotions at bay when I was growing up. My parents were loving and compassionate, but did not model freely expressing negative emotions. “Be strong!” and “Save your tears for something important!” were common reactions to any angst I felt. In a way, it made me the strong, resilient person I am today… but I do not choose to follow that model. I welcome any emotions that are shared from my loved ones. Just like a sprained ankle, a hurting heart needs loving attention.
When my beloved dad was in hospice care at home and we knew we only had a few more days, I had the beautiful opportunity to sit with him so everyone else could go to a neighborhood picnic. We talked, we reminisced, we wondered at the next adventure on which he would soon embark and suddenly we both had tears in our eyes. Being the best of friends, we were already dreading the separation.
I remember saying to him, “You always told me to save my tears for something important and this is it.” Evidently, he had saved years of extra love for this very moment and his comforting words still live in my heart.
My advice…don’t save all of those tears for something important. Every time a heart is in pain is important. My dad would agree.
