LOSS - So Many Things and So Many Changes

Its been eons since I wrote and I'm sure in blogger's-sphere, this blog is irrelevant now... And, that is ok because this post is for that what was lost and for the sense of release that comes from writing.

Maisy and her BFF 

Grief is a weird and unpredictable thing... at first it consumes you and you cannot believe that you will feel normal again.  But you do, it becomes your new normal...  and the urgencies of life begin to overwhelm the loss.  Tears flow in moments that seem odd - that song, the way the clouds look in the sky or the crushing urgency to want to fill the hole as soon as possible.  They just come..

Its almost a month since Maisy was euthanized. I was with her every step of the way from noticing the lump in her throatlatch area to diagnosis, treatment and through her nine day stay at Tufts Large Animal Medical Center.  It was me who got the call that she was deteriorating and it was me who had to authorized her euthanasia.  And although it was ultimately me, I was never alone.  Her team of folk, our Village, felt the anxiety, the fear and the loss of one of the sweetest souls we've known as intensely as I did.

Maisy and her BFF at the 

Tik Maynard Clinic

I wanted to be angry.  I wanted to find fault.  I looked for the things they did "wrong".  I obsessed over conversations had with staff when I visited.  I wondered if we did the wrong thing.  In the end, everyone did the best they could with what little was known about the condition.

Compassion is about understanding that as much as I hurt, the team at Tufts had to feel something too.  Maisy came in "healthy" and happy but never left.  They spent 9 days trying to save her life and failed.  I think my pain is easier to live with than what they must feel more often than I can imagine.  The cookies I sent were meant to release a little of what they might be feeling and to express the gratitude felt that they gave her a chance to live.

Two similar souls - Maisy and Chandler (oh and me)

I went to the barn this morning to feed the ponies.  Despite the thick layer of ice still waiting for the melt, Spring is here.  The birds serenated me with their sweet love songs.  The horses greeted me enthusiastically, eager for their breakfast.  Maisy's stall is empty and her blanket rack is filled with a myriad of choices.  I need to send them off for cleaning but for now, they hang in various stages of dirty.  I miss her whinny and her big black eyes and those long white eye lashes.

Horses are so many things to me.  And even if the tears still show up, another pony is waiting for me to call my own.  Another pony is waiting for a deep curry and a soft brushing so that their coat gleams.  Another pony is waiting to have all the adventures and he/she is eagerly waiting to be loved and cared for by the Village caring for me.

Looking for the "new normal" while appreciating all that was to be loved.  And giving gratitude for the folks who helped us cope - Maisy's trainer/rider, her long-lining/horsey yoga instructor and our fabulous vet who diagnosed the condition and stood by us rock solid.  That makes a good Sunday morning.