It’s later August, the Sunday afternoon in the teacher/student world, a world I am still in with one child headed to college and one in a new year of high school. The time of singing birds dwindles while the bugs of back to school come buzzing in. Our gardens are leaning towards the characteristic crisp at the near end of a warm and peaceful summer, yet as in all of life, it is a balance of loss interwoven with moments of pure joy.
Late July brought sadness as we said goodbye to sweet Shelby, our old pittie who we loved dearly and without measure. Loving animals is a special gift we are given as humans trying to make it in a hectic world – what a tremendous love pets give. She was both our couch potato and fierce protector, even if she was all bark when asking for ferocious snuggles. I’ve never been more wrong about a dog, thinking she was too big and strong when she joined our family, our children only in single digits.
Our hound Jim has such a presence, and when we first adopted him he had this crazy habit of latching onto arms and not letting go, specific to us and our children. My old dog, Sunny, had zero interest in his shenanigans. The latching on wasn’t painless, but he wasn’t biting either. He behaved when we hired a dog trainer who wasn’t cheap. Nothing could make him replicate the daily ambush in front of the trainer.
With us, it was all chaos until our Shelby came home, the perfect solution. We adopted her from The Little Guild just as Jim and our old basset/beagle ZuZu came from – such a wonderful rescue. Within only a few days of Shelby being here, Jim was making a run for our youngest in her puffy fall coat. I have never seen a dog literally watch children like our Shelby. She saw Jim take off, then it was all over. She leapt off the porch and like a football player, body slammed into the side of Jim, lifting him (he is bigger) off his feet.
Jim never latched on to any of us ever again.
I’ve read about pitbulls babysitting children in history but to see how she made it her absolute duty to watch and protect our children – it was the stuff of movies.
And now, they have grown, and she is gone.
Loss. We watch our families grow with pure love and hope they will all turn out okay. We nurture and nourish, and before you know it, your oldest is ready to take off. I know Shelby will follow, leading our son in the best direction when he is out on his own, protecting him from her corner of the Universe.
Gain. As this season fades, I welcome in a new opportunity that has come my way, rolling into my life after over two years of searching for work. Like the caterpillar getting mushy and ugly in that cocoon, I had some not so pretty work to do. Searching your soul is not for the weary, yet pausing allowed me to look into what was worth keeping and what was meant to pass.
Letting go can be forced or found in a gentle surrender. This experience of a post-teaching life has been a mix of both.
Finding solace in volunteering and joining new communities of people has helped me feel connected this entire time, thankfully, and in doing so, I found the courage to apply for a certification run by UConn and the CT DEEP and CT Parks and Forest Association, called the Master Woodland Manager program.
After about a month of waiting, I received an email with an acceptance to this competitive opportunity, meaning for the next year I will study nature in ways I’ve dreamed of! I think about the countless nights upset and unsure over what to do with myself, the applications never answered, the jobs not there, the skills with nowhere to use them.
Loss and gain. We lost one dog and have one left. One child heads out while one remains. One job lost with one amazing chance ahead.
Balance. Perspective.
Without leaving teaching, I could not have made this dream come true, to learn how to take care of this amazing Earth we call home and help others do the same.
Without Shelby being found on the city street, we would not have been granted a beautiful 9 years with her – far too short – but how lucky we were and still are.
Without helping our son see the potential in his future by letting him go, he could not achieve and reach his goals the way he is meant to.
And on and on and on.
Caterpillars are not meant to stay the same. They move, they eat, they live in their amazing bodies, and then they change, for change equals survival, yet it is more than this. Doing all they can before setting themselves in a space of stillness, they know how to work their lives to make it to the pause, to the place meant to transform them, literally, into a work of beauty.
None of it is easy, the loss and gain, but it is where the great work takes place. And yes, some creatures have more work it seems than others – that is nature. The key is taking perspective on loss and what there is to gain when you feel there is nothing that can change, especially when things get hard.
I know better now. I know through my hardest moments that love and faith stayed with me in the cocoon, giving me all I needed to come out the other end, alive and well.
Stinky pittie hugs didn’t hurt, either. 💗
With love 🙂
