Our Christmas ornaments have been collected throughout the years. Some I have had since I was a little girl, others I bought when I traveled as a young woman, others still I have collected in the years that I have built my family.
Most of them have a story or at the very least, are symbolic in their representation of the life I have lived.
There are angel wings on our tree, each of which represents a beloved pet now lost to us.
Last year, we lost Isadora Gypsy Rose, our toy poodle, shortly before she could celebrate Christmas with us. Her angel wings hang on our tree this year as does a Christmas bulb with the initial " I" on it, both are there in her memory. It was difficult to go through all the photos we have collected of Isadora in the fifteen years she lived with us but I wanted to share her with all of you one last time. She was truly my baby as only a little, teeny, wee dog of five pounds can be.When you are responsible for a dog that small, you worry more about the integrity of their health and well being on a daily basis than you might otherwise when taking care of a larger, more robust animal. I wanted Isadora to be brave in the face of the world she lived in and to view the world as an adventure in of itself. I did not want a hand in shaping a nervous, timid dog who was afraid of everything and of everyone. Isadora, because of this, was not a fearful or fainthearted dog who insistently and randomly barked at people, dogs or cats ; she greeted everyone she met with pure joy no matter how daunting the size or species presented to her. Isadora never showed signs of fear when presented with an unknown nor did she hesitate to run freely through a forest, or on a beach; she ran effortlessly through life as if in anticipation of yet one more great adventure. I feel, conclusively, that she led a good and happy life in the years she shared with us. Still, her life came to an end. All life must come to an end, there is no stopping that process no matter how much we convince ourselves that if we love strongly, or completely, or purely ,or enough, we can stop the inevitable outcome of life. At times, it might feel as though we can stop death if only for a moment, that death will spare us if we are given the opportunity to argue the magnitude of our love. If we can convince someone, prove somehow that we have loved hard enough, well enough, thoroughly enough , we might be able to deceive death and in the process , perhaps we can momentarily deceive ourselves into believing that life as we know it on earth, is eternal. Yet the end inevitably comes, and always we are surprised by and unprepared for its' coming. Most of us are left yearning for one more day with the loved one we have been forced to say good-bye to. We remain affixed to this earth temporarily lost in a suddenly too wide life, when we find ourselves with one less being by our side to love. I am not the exception in having experienced wanting one more day with a loved one, nor am I the exception when being forced to make the irreversible and heartbreaking admission that someone I love is no longer with me. I would love to hold Isadora one last time and to gently remind her that she is my Sunshine. My only Sunshine. Did she hear me and take note I wonder, all those times I whispered the same message to her all the days and years she was with me? I believe she did. And I believe she is now a lambent, luminous star in the sky who shines boldly and brightly as a testament to hope, perseverance and love ; to everlasting love in all its' many and varied shapes and duration. Look up to the sky tonight, or when next you find yourself under the solitude of an evening's vast and darkened sky and there you will see all our stars, yours and mine, all our departed loved ones, our stars in the sky shining brightly, reminding us as they twinkle and glimmer, that they, our loved ones, will guide us back to them one fine and gentle day.
Look sharp! The New Year is almost upon us :)
See you soon.
the critters in the cottage xo