I am so overwhelmed by all the love and compassion in the comments to my last post, about my precious little “fur”baby Amber, who died suddenly and without cause on the 2nd April. As with all of the sad and difficult times, it was you who got me through it. When I felt completely gutted by life, you sent me a gentle hug or a prayer. I am “surrounded” by some very special people, and I am eternally grateful that you share my story and my life, though we have never met. Thank you for checking back here as often as you do, and for being a constant in my journey.
Life without Amber has been an adjustment. They say that times heals all wounds, and that is true. It gets a little easier day by day, although there is a scar, not visible, but as painful as all the others I bear. We planted a tree of remembrance, so that Amber won’t be forgotten. Although seemingly cruel, life goes on, and it must. Life is crazy, it is painful and it is the most beautiful gift. I have heard it described as a large jar of marbles, each marble representing a day. Every day we take out a marble and throw it away, it cannot be regained. And life is like that. Once the sun has set on a day, it is gone forever. We need to really live each and every day and make the most of the “marbles” we have been given. Look at the clouds as you drive, enjoy the music, smell the flowers, breathe with purpose.
We are so lucky to have each other (fellow IF’ers), our spouses, our family, our pets, our neighbours (however annoying), our domestic workers, our colleagues, our friends, our acquaintances. Everyday that we connect with someone we are blessed.
We become so wrapped up in our problems that we miss the bigger picture. I see poverty every day. The lady who sits on the side of the road and cooks corn in a drum over a fire, with her toddler sitting by her side. She is there when I drive by early in the morning, and still there when I drive home in the afternoon. There are people all around me who will never own a car or a real house. They have to walk across town to use the toilets, or walk 4 or 5 kilometres from the taxi rank to work, and yet we get upset when they are twenty minutes late. These people greet me with smiles, they never complain. I am so fortunate, and I am only starting to really appreciate my life for what it is, and what I do have as oppposed to what I don’t.
Amber has indeed left a very large empty space despite her size, but she has opened my eyes to the possibilities rather than the obstacles, and for that I am very grateful. They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and now I realise how full and happy my life has been despite all the accompanying disappointments. Thank you Amber, my sweet little dog, for all the good times. I won’t forget you.
