If I were to say anything about grief (or my current stage thereof), it’s that connecting with other people helps the griever feel real. Every face-to-face, heart-to-heart encounter is something I am grateful for. Such encounters are happening more often, maybe because I recognize and welcome the healing they provide.
Taking Sophie for a walk this past weekend, we were passing the yard of our greenest-thumbed neighbor, and she invited us inside the fence to visit. We sat within a semi-circle of vegetables and flowers and trees—amazing how much she can grow in one normal front yard in high desert New Mexico. She explained that she’s trying to replicate her semi-tropical Chinese origins.
While Sophie barked at her cat, we exchanged origin stories of our dogs. My neighbor remarked on how much we like to feel that our pet is meant for us.
I told her how Wayne was volunteering at Animal Humane, and one day he walked past the glass door behind which Sophie was on show, waiting for a new home. When she saw him, she scrabbled at the door demanding his attention as if in recognition. I came to meet her the next day, and her desperate need belong somewhere brought me to tears. Of course, she had to join our family.
Sophie was about two when we adopted her. She turns thirteen this summer. After Sophie and I resumed our walk, my mind went into what if mode. It had been at least three years after losing our previous dog, Taz. that we adopted Sophie.
What if Taz had been reborn as Sophie? Sophie and Taz are very similar in coloring and size. She doesn’t have his impulsiveness, but is equally outgoing and friendly. Sophie is a good water drinker, where Taz suffered two bladder operations from never drinking enough.
The times I feel closest to Wayne are when I wake in the night. Then I realize it’s Sophie’s warmth nearby, and not Wayne’s. Sophie is a link between us, whether there’s anything spooky about it or not.
Writing What Ifs
What ifs are a staple of writing—like the time I’ve spent pondering, the time I’ve spent spiraling (mentioned in previous blogs), and middle of the night times pondering the novel’s climax.
It was a further leap of imagination when I came home from our walk and turned to my spiraling. I added one more What if that turned into a Why not?
Serendipity comes into play when normal conversations bounce against my other world, raising aha! moments. Each aha! adds another link, or piece to the puzzle. I set them on the board and ask myself what will hold these together?
That’s one more great reason to value human-to-human interactions.
Kate Harrington 