The Beauty That I Felt

A month of firsts without Rose. That has been September for me. I love firsts, {especially when they are positive}, like Rose’s first Christmas, {December 25^th, 2010}, or Rose’s first Gotcha Day, {September 21^st, 2011}. But firsts without Rose, {or Shadow before her}, are heartbreaking. This has been a month of firsts without Rose. On September 15^th, Rose had been dead, {and exploring The Rainbow Bridge}, for three LONG months. On September 16^th, my brother participated in virtual rhythm and drum class, {oh, the coronavirus/2020}, a day when I would have spent baking Rose dog cookies during his class. On September 21^st, it’ll be Baby Girl’s tenth Gotcha Day, {I imagine that anniversary will be emotionally hard for me}, also known as Rose’s first Gotcha Day at The Rainbow Bridge. My nieces, ‘Amethyst’, ‘Opal’, ‘Ruby’, and nephew, ‘Capricorn’ kept me preoccupied, {what blessed distractions}, on September 15^th. I danced to Bruce Springsteen, {Born In The USA}, on September 16^th, {during my brother’s virtual rhythm and drum class}. Please pray for me on September 21^st…. Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part Four--

On my necklace, ‘REMEMBER’ is engraved;

Through grief’s journeys, it’s helped me to be brave;

My Rose, I will remember June fifteenth;

It’s a special date, you know what I mean?

I will remember I did not expect;

The beauty that I felt to take effect;

I will remember being quite present;

As you died, and left on my heart paw prints;

I will remember scratching your throat;

As I felt that velvet-soft fur coat;

I will remember, Babe, how you ‘smiled’;

Did you know those legs will run through miles?

The Heavens Cried

 Writing. That is how I grieve. Whether it be as a poet, or even as an ‘author’ makes absolutely no difference none whatsoever. I grieve through writing. I express my complex thoughts, feelings, and emotions in poems, or even in fictional stories. Writing. That is how I heal from loss, as well. It’s the very best form of therapy for me, as I ‘talk’ out complicated thoughts, feelings, and emotions to myself. Nothing, {not a psychiatrist, or a psychologist}, can compare to this form of therapy. Nothing. I am eternally grateful for my God-given ability, talent, and gift of writing!! I absolutely love the way it is serving me well right now!! Someday, I will look back on these ‘Love Poems’ to Rose, {most of which were composed by my broken heart, my bleeding soul after she was euthanized}, and, not only will I eternally remember Rose, but I’ll also remember my grief. I grieve through writing. I heal through writing. And, you know what they say…. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

--Part Three--

On my necklace, ‘REMEMBER’ is engraved;

Through grief’s journeys, it’s helped me to be brave;

My Rose, I will remember June fifteenth;

It’s a special date, you know what I mean?

I will remember how the Heavens cried;

‘Cause it rained on that sad day when you died;

I will remember this felt dramatic;

Just like the movies with its theatrics;

I will remember rain as a symbol;

For my broken heart, my bleeding soul.

Shooting Stars

Note…. Today, I am taking a quick break from this long poetry series by posting the most recent poem that I composed about Rose, {and my grief, and my healing journey}….

A shooting star. That is an ultimate sign, {or God Wink}, from Rose assuring me that she is here, residing within my broken heart. Why? Because, last year, I witnessed three shooting stars alongside Rose, that is why. But, these amazing streaks of light are magical, like rainbows, and Santa Claus. I obviously cannot simply gaze up at the starry sky, and witness a shooting star. Very early last Wednesday morning, before visiting Rose’s, {and Shadow’s}, cement paw print stepping stones in our backyard, my broken heart, and my bleeding soul were feeling unsettled. I was not even looking for a shooting star. My eyes weren’t fixed on the sky, although I always, always, ALWAYS look up. I was just aimlessly walking past our patio. And there it was, caught in the corner of my eye, streaking across the sky at, like, one-hundred miles per hour, {or something like that}, a shooting star!! I gasped. Then, I did not believe my eyes. I witnessed a shooting star?! Then, I walked over to Rose’s cement paw print stepping stone, I traced my hand on her foot, and, {if memory serves me correctly}, I said: ‘Thanks for the visit, Rosey….’ I felt like she said: ‘I’m here, Mama. Everything is going to be alright.’ Peace and Love, Mary Lou

Edited by Kara Kent!!

We witnessed a shooting star last August;

But you were scatterbrained, it was missed;

Well, we saw a shooting star last Summer;

Trust me…. It was truly not a bummer!!

But you were sniffing the ‘midnight’ ground;

Just like a Beagle mix, just like a hound;

They were two separate shooting stars;

Don’t you love seeing something from afar?!

We saw a shooting star last September;

It felt magical, do you remember?

Yes, yes…. You were far too distracted;

But I was eternally impacted!!

I witnessed a shooting star this morning;

It happened when grief struck without warning;

My heart, soul, and mind were unsettled;

Like a wilting rose with falling petals;

Babe, I was visiting your paw prints;

That stepping stone, my eternal present;

I was not searching for anything;

I just looked toward the stars twinkling;

And there it was, a God Wink from you;

Your ultimate sign in this day anew;

You said: ‘I’m here, Mama, I’m here….’;

I heard your message loud and clear;

I said: ‘Thanks for the visit, Rosey….’;

You are my ‘Comfort Dog’, my Baby.