One Day at a Time

This is an update on Suzie Q. What the doctors think - and they couldn't be sure -- if that she has a fluid build up in the sac that shrouds her heart. No tumour in the liver or spleen, which would have been a big concern for Suzie's next steps.

We had a choice. We could choose to have her undergo very invasive surgery to look-see at her heart and, if possible although not sure, release any fluid -- if any. The vet wasn't able to give us much more than -- "it might be a possibility and we aren't sure and the surgery is invasive": (if she said the word "invasive" once, she said it seven times).

Other choice. Bring her home and treat her with love and care and take it as it comes. Watch and take the next step that reveals itself to us.

We chose option 2. Suzie perked up when she saw us; was her usual frenetic self on the car ride home; and started about two blocks from home to demonstrate that she knew she was going to a place that is special to her. Of course, I'm quietly freaking out -- "Suze, I know you want to get to your special blanket, drink out of the toilet, and watch TV with Jim; but let's be mindful of your heart!!!"

Jim specifically asked me to let you know how she is. When I asked him what to say about her prognosis, he simply said "One Day at a Time". One Day at a Time.

Thanks for your calls and prayers. I have no doubt they helped.

And, Karen, thank you for remaining ever watchful at the ultimate end of the rainbow bridge. When we got into the vet's office tonight, terrified of the choices ahead, there was a picture on the wall of a beautiful rainbow. I said to Jim: "That's it; there's the message". "She's heading over the bridge and we have to let her go from this side".

But. Not yet, Karen, not yet. Suzie has more love to give us on this side. And we are grateful.

One day at a time...

Be Safe, Suzie

Suzie, the newest member of our family, is very ill. I rushed her to hospital this morning after she had what seemed to be a debilitating seizure. I was all alone in the house. I could feel the knife-edge of panic around my heart, as my breathing seemed to quicken on its own to meet her frantic panting.

The news was not good. The vet diagnosed her as either have a tumour on her lungs or heart or having heart failure. They wouldn’t know until they do extensive (and expensive) tests. As the vet explained the expense of the tests, I could feel her assessing whether I would say yes or no to the costs involved in finding out what was wrong with Suzie. I wasn’t thinking about the cost. I was thinking about what type of dog owner would choose not to spend their last dime, just in the hope that it would give them one more day in the sunshine of dogged devotion.

So, I readily agreed that we would do all that was necessary; without question or hesitation.

I had been crying as I was speed-driving Suzie to emergency. Please hold on, Suzie, you need to hold on. Don’t die on me here, all alone the two of us without Jim. He’s your friend. You’re his friend. His dog. Don’t go without saying goodbye to him. It would break his heart as surely as you are breaking mine right now.

The decision was made to keep Suzie in emergency until the dog cardiologist can see her in the morning. I asked the vet if there was a chance Suzie might not make it through the night. When she said yes, the tears spilled over unabashedly. I asked if Jim could come to see her, as I knew he couldn’t deal with the not-Suzie place our home would be tonight.

He came. She came to him, in less than her usual exuberant manner, but calm nevertheless. He spoke to her gently. They made love in the few minutes he got to adjust to what might be a very sick friend. We said goodbye. Jim with full body hugs and emotion-filled kisses on her nose. Me, with simply a loving pat. Any more than a loving pat would have been superstitious, driven by my dread that it might be the last time.

We’re told that she is now resting comfortably and off oxygen. We’ll know in the morning what the future will bring.

It is simply amazing to me that there may be something wrong with Suzie’s heart. Did she spend it out on her grieving over Karen and Ricky? Did she overextend herself to become our loving grace over the past year? Or is it simply the product of her age?

No matter the reason, I know we were blessed to have Suzie. If she soon has to cross the rainbow bridge, I will urge her across – to be in health with Karen on the other side.

But, if you can Suzie, please stay with us a little longer. We aren’t ready to lose you.

Be safe, special one. Cross the night the way you will. Either way, you will be loved.

There is No Secret

The big secret in life is that there is no big secret. Whatever your goal, you can get there if you're willing to work. (Oprah Winfrey)

This is an update on my “Master in Love” journal. Just four months later, Jim has done enough gigs to pay for the first half of my semester on a Masters in Law! By the time I finish this semester (starting Sunday night this week), he will have accomplished his goal. Can’t beat that!

Can you just imagine the daily blessing of taking a journey with someone who is willing to work toward your goals?

Wisdom in those Ugly Toes

We were in Nashville for four days. I had spent countless hours cruising websites and looking at travel books to make sure that we saw all the sites that, in my knowledge of him, Jim would love. I knew that my quest was worthwhile when each moment brought new pleasure to Jim. Indeed, the success of my dedicated pursuit to his enjoyment was solidified when he took special delight in one of the museums that I had worried would be a lesser attraction. Although the museum was off the beaten track, rather deserted – and rather musty – I sensed that it would call to the musician in Jim. And I was not to be disappointed when I saw how entranced that Jim was by all of the power that the museum held. One would have to be a true musician at heart to take pleasure in the somewhat dusty and desolate exhibits of players gone by. And Jim is a true musician.

My wish now. On our last day I told Jim that I wanted to see a statue that I had read about. It was a few miles away and we would need to walk it. At this point, we had already walked through miles and miles of Nashville. Jim had blisters on his legs from his cowboy boots, complete with a particular boil that looked painful and oozed with blood. He assured me that he could make the trek to the statue because it was important to me (and he wasn’t about to acknowledge my “I told you so” that he hadn’t brought another more comfortable pair of shoes to wear – after all, according to him, we were in Nashville where boots were a must!)

And so we walked through incredibly hot and sweaty weather to visit Athena. Goddess of Wisdom and Justice. For some inexplicable reason, She is one of my personal icons. I can’t explain how her story wants to echo in my life and my times. She was known to do battle to protect those who were her people; those who were important to her. As I hope that I can tirelessly pick up the mantle for those of mine.

We sat all alone in chamber that houses the statue of Athena. I was embarrassed to admit to Jim – (my husband of thirty years!) – that if the myths were true of how lives descend and repeat over and over again from the ancestors of our past, I would hope that I would be from the lines of Athena.

You might not know that I hate my feet, and especially my toes, with a passion. Indeed, my sisters and I have occasionally sat together and compared our toes. With the exception of my sister Kerrie who has beautiful feet, we all have groaned over how we could be saddled with such an ugly as our feet.

As Jim grappled with the new knowledge of how very much I wanted Athena to run through the chords of my life, he simply looked at me and said “You have her feet”. And he was right.

I have never been more complimented in my life as in that moment. Me, with my ugly feet, have found the most wonderful and understanding man. A man who instinctively knows the very right thing to say at the very right moment. I am struck in the knowledge that life has delivered me the very best there can be in my travelling companion.

I smile up at Athena. She knows it too.

Ugly toes and all.

Saikou no Jinsei no Mitsukekata

When you truly love someone, there is nothing more precious and rewarding than giving them a gift that they will treasure. Something that you know they have always wanted. Something that you suspect they wouldn’t give to themselves. Something that will live on in their memories and in their soul long after the moment passes.

I gave Jim that type of gift this week. We went to Nashville, a place he had longed to go. What a wonderful time of southern hospitality, soulful food, country music, compelling sites, and thrilling experiences.

The Grand Ole Opry. Jim has idolized that place from way back when he picked up his first guitar and fell in love with the sound of country. What a treasure it was for him to sit on the stage of the Opry and sing a song. How uplifting it was for me to watch his face as he played on the stage of his dreams. There was applause from those who were on the same tour as us; and there was resounding appreciation in my heart for the music man.

Seeing the pride and joy in my face as I watched Jim, the tour guide suggested that I take my place alongside of him on stage. As we have done for thirty years on our own stage of liviing, as we will do for as long as grace will allow.

Finding the greatest life. May you be as blessed.