Journal Entry 7… Joy, Death and a Dog named Reese

Yesterday I checked a big box off my bucket list, taking a hot air balloon ride. We got up at 3:45am to get to Portland in time to watch a field of sunflowers wake in the morning sun as we lifted off the ground. The wind was so calm, the only indication we were moving was the scenery changing. Once we landed, there was a toast with mimosas and the crew. The owner of the Portland Rose Balloon company gave us a short but fascinating history of why we toast with champagne after a flight and offering up The Balloonist’s Prayer.

“The winds have welcomed you with softness, the sun blessed you with its warm hands, You have flown so well and so high that God has joined you in your laughter and set you gently back again into the loving arms of Mother Earth.”

Later that afternoon, we ran into a woman walking a dog that reminded me so much of my Sassy. You wouldn’t believe the dog’s name…Reese! I ate up as much doggie love as I could with those few moments, and even had Mike take a picture of me with the dog. After walking away, I felt the tears coming. Mike embraced me with the loving arms of someone who knows deep loss. Grief can creep in like a pickpocket, squeezing your heart when least expect, and pulling the joy you were feeling moments earlier out of your soul. Time does not take the loss away; it only assists in learning how to live with it. That evening I tossed in bed with insomnia, reflecting once again on how my life has changed, and how I never would have fathomed the roads I would take to arrive at this moment.
There are times in a person’s life that can test one’s strength to even stand, and for me, that was around 2016 and the few years that followed. I was on an incredible high from the previous years, succeeding in two major goals I had worked so hard and diligently for, losing 136 pounds and soon becoming debt free. To say 2016 was grueling is an understatement. Among many terrible tragedies, my boss Dr. Lesser announced he had terminal cancer. He was a 2^nd father to me. Five minutes after announcing this crushing blow, he was handing out letters to every patient, explaining he was going to die, and what a gift taking care of them was to him. He comforted these people about his upcoming death because taking care of them was his life. We grieved the loss of this man ever day, all day with each patient that felt they were losing their dearest friend and truly their lifeline. I was gaining weight back because I was still struggling with how to deal with stress without food as a crutch. And while 2017 brought the joy of high school graduation for my daughter, it was a year of sorrow and loss. Diane, a woman who shaped my life in so many ways died in June. Meeting in the 8^th grade, we would later raise our babies together. Our young girls struggled with illness; we used to say God never had them in the hospital at the same time because He knew Diane and I needed each other’s focus when it was our girls turn in the hospital. Her daughter Madalyn died a few years before her, and I know her broken heart played a role in the breakdown of her body. Dr. Lesser died two months after Diane, and the daily grieving started all over again with patients coming in like a daily funeral. It was an honor to be there for them. It had the side effect of helping me heal because I was helping others. Sassy died two months after Dr. Lesser. The hours before her passing were tragic, and I grieve just thinking of the desperation to find a veterinarian throughout the night to take her suffering away. I was trying to prepare myself financial for my pending divorce when our partner hospital did not renew our doctor’s contracts, and my job was in jeopardy. I never lost my job, but my co-workers and I waited on bated breath for months; doctors deciding the fate of their practice, as well as which of us they would ask to join them. The following year, we lost Danny and Memaw, and it has to be mentioned that July 4th will forever be imprinted in my mind’s eye with Jamie’s beautiful smile. In 2020, everyone lost someone; Daddy in 2023.

Each death left me feeling, “What now?” I know my loved one’s energy is not gone, they changed and moved, but they still exist. Death of our bodies is guaranteed. Daddy and Dr Lesser both had such a matter-of-fact philosophy about the inevitable. I don’t believe death is evil; it’s the sadness for the loss, and grief for losing what could have been that can eat at me. I think we assign reason or blame because we want explanation; to understand. I naturally want to find cause as to why I have this wonderful life and others have lost theirs. Why Diane’s daughter died, and the treatments worked for my daughter. Why the circumstances of Daddy dying led me to meet my future husband who would have never been looking for me if he had not tragically lost his wife Sheila. We are taught as children to be fair; yet events and circumstances continue to remind us that life is not fair. Personally, I don’t believe it’s because “everything happens for a reason”, and I don’t believe it’s because I “deserve” this life any more than anyone else.            
I’ve resigned to knowing I won’t know in this lifetime, but I can use the loss as a reminder not to swim in sorrow any longer than what’s necessary for my spirit to thrive. I still have a choice on how I will live my day, and I can choose happiness. Enjoy moments in spite of circumstances. Don’t just get through the day, be glad to have it. It is not too late to make this moment good. This is what I remind myself of. This is what I know the ones who have gone before me would want. So I have my cry, I don’t hold the grief in, then I take a deep breath, and keep moving forward. The past is gone, the future has yet to happen. I only have right now, and I am soothed by the beauty before my eyes, and the good memories I’ve been given.