To Love IS To Lose...sometimes

I've heard the expression (paraphrased somewhat), "would you rather have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"...and it has come to mind, for some reason, so often lately. I never really thought of it in terms of losing a child, our Allison. That is not even a consideration, we don't have children ever expecting to lose them. It's not in our realm of remote possibility. If we thought we would ever have to learn to live without them, and if we knew the pain that encompasses every aspect of emotion and part of one's soul, I wonder what we would say if God had given us the choice. But He often doesn't, and the child is coming, and life takes hold, then you wake up one day, your child living at any age and you find that whatever time you have with them has come to an end, and you know, in spite of everything, in spite of the shock, despair, indescribable loss, that you would do it again, that she was here for a purpose, and life was meant for her presence, until it was time or her to go and make a difference from the heavens. There is that faith and belief in a higher power that makes this realization somewhat more comforting, at least a lot of the times. But a lot of the times, too, it takes some time to retrieve that thought, especially when as her mother I desire a "normal" holiday, with traditions in tact, her physical presence here to hang the ornaments that we never failed to put up, each telling their own story, or that of generations past. I desire in the strongest way to touch her cheek, hold her hand, wake her up on Christmas morning, rather than she and her sister waking us up, as in days gone by. It is exhausting to "figure out" the new traditions, the new ways, the diversions and the maneuvering through a time such as this. It is simply the most incredible feat just to get through the days. But we do and we will, and we make this house a home, with the subtle ways to honor her, remember, and "celebrate" her life as we did nearly three years ago. The candles get lit, the pink tree all aglow, and new life has found its way into our homes and hearts in the form of a new, needy little guy, Rex!

Rex comes to mind as we really debated the expression above...would we rather risk loving and finding attachment and loss than to not love at all? That is a discussion Joe and I had as we had to make a decision whether to adopt this little guy, who was named Pippin at the animal shelter. He will have his own story on my blog soon! But after some discussion and decision making, Rex came to live with us. This is not what we wanted, we didn't ask for it, and as in life, we would have never imagined it. On the heels of losing our beloved Barkley, with our hearts still broken, and missing him beyond words, Rex was brought to us and we couldn't say no. Just last week I began to think of how I need to find a place for Barkley's belongings and packed up the car to donate them to a shelter! Isn't that what they say about babies, too, once mom and dad give away the crib, thinking there is not to be another baby, well, surprise! Nothing was good about this, we told ourselves. It's not the right time. These are our most difficult weeks of the year, our last days now, lived with Allison, blended with her last Christmas at home, there is much to sort through. We just don't need this!

But most of all, how could we sustain yet another loss? How could we endure the pain if we become attached and his life was short? All the unanswered questions surfaced, all of which we knew had no answers. We already know we cannot predict what lies ahead, nor have tomorrow promised, we only have today. And we have a home, love and a life we can give another dog. No, this was not the plan, but what part of life IS our plan?!

So, we have decided to open up and love, and if there is loss, and there will be again, in some form or another, someone we love will be lost to us, at least loss in the physical sense. But not ever truly lost. Allison is gone in the physical sense, and although we are still trying to accept that and acknowledge it internally, our minds tell us it is so. Barkley is gone in the physical sense, as well. But neither of them is ever really gone. Both have taught us to try to open up a bit more, that it's okay to keep living and loving and giving in ways that we can. So our home is open and Rex is adjusting, seeking and craving the love that has been denied. We may lose again, but we will love a lot in the process.