Grief in signs and steps.
On grieving, continued living, and relearning how to walk the same paths without your soul dog.
We shuffled through the woods, the insects narrating each step we took as we walked closer to a destination we were unsure of. Whenever we trekked through the paths, my body felt like it buzzed in anticipation, my senses on full alert watching for animals and scanning for other humans who may cross our path.
The trees were barren with a slight hint of Spring on the tips of their branches, although there was still a chill in the air. Heat started to radiate the surface of the Earth and that familiar first feeling of hope bubbled up in my chest, brushing the melancholy of Winter off and happily welcoming a new season, a new me.
I let my mind begin to wander as our cadence steadied its pace, one foot in front of the other, one breath behind the next, continuously scanning the near distance while allowing my mind to idle at the healm.
When you are living in a state of grief everything feels a little heavier, a little more rusty. There’s a curtain of haze hanging over your head that can be easily drawn over the rest of your body if you pull the string to cover your eyes and use it as a shield to detach yourself from the rest of the world. Someday it feels like a blanket that you just can’t seem to get warm under, others, it feels like you’re encapsulated in a wave that keeps your body in motion even when you try to sink.
Our breathing became simpatico, mine entering through my nose and unintentionally leaving through my mouth, his became short in unison chuffs, sounding anxious and excited in the most natural way. Step by step, the rocks crunched under our feet, all 6 of them. Occasionally I’d have to give the leash a slight tug of encouragement, a ‘cmon buddy’ instinctually slipping through my mouth.
Although he couldn’t tell me, his grief was deeper than mine. It ravished his body and encapsulated his personality in sadness and unknown. I thought back to right after he lost his best friend, how he couldn’t get off the couch because of stomach issues, couldn’t walk up the stairs because he was so weak. In an all too familiar motion I found myself driving back to the vet for what felt like the 100th time that month, praying out loud ‘please send your brother strength, please do not let it be time for him to come meet you already.’
Less than a 2 minutes later, the numbers 77,777 showed up on my car dashboard and I knew she was with us, I knew she was sending us a sign that he would be okay. Later that night 7,777 showed up for me again; she was still watching over us, still helping me because she knew I was the one that actually needed her strength.
The warmth of the sun creeps its way through the canopy of trees and lands on my skin reminding me that time continues to move forward, it never stops, even when you feel like your heart may cease to pump.
“Isn’t it wild how nature just knows to change when it does?” Alex said to me during a walk.
“Of course it knows, nature makes the rules.” I replied.
The seasons are one of natures ways of reminding us that we are not in control, that nothing we do can come close to the magic and cycles she has been doling out for thousands of thousands of years. She reminds us that it keeps going - until it doesn’t.
As is birth, living, and eventual death. The only three cycles every living creature is guaranteed to endure in their unique, obscure way.
There’s a peep from another mouth, a little coo of admiration of our exploration, one that is still seeing things for the first time ever. Taking in the scents, the sweet smell of buds about to bloom, the slight breeze that dances across her porcelain skin, the sun radiating over it all. Our new walking companion who strolls with us on our quests.
A year ago I walked these woods with her snug in my belly, patiently waiting for her to make her Earth side appearance, flanked by my two loyal companions, my two loves, the four of us.
We still walk as a pack of four although these woods now welcome us in a different arrangement, the energy of shifted from flesh to spirit, my essence of maternal instinct stronger than ever.
The trail was the only thing
our steps had in common
never in simpatico
and yet always in sync.
The silence trill of insects
snapping twigs and birds overhead
narrated our simple journey
through a route we took everyday.
Heavy breaths and the occasional hum
expended from my mouth
as the life growing inside of me
made me feel heavy.
But you never stopped me
you never slowed me down
even when you did
it was only to enjoy a tiny sweetness
only you could know.
Our walks were your happiness
our walks were my meditation
our walks were special moments
our walks are my memories.
I miss our walks with a deepness in my bones
your spot feels empty
although I know you still step with us
not in sight
but in spirit.
