In Starlight Rescue, Kimberly Dorn struggles with childhood memories of her deceased baby sister. She has never been able to come to peaceful terms with her grief.
Last week, my beloved poodle of twelve years passed away suddenly. We rushed Danny to the clinic as his breathing became more shallow, his small paws already cool to the touch. I knew in my heart, even when the vet carried him away to start an IV that it was too late. He left us within minutes, quietly, so unlike his spunky nature. At the last, his beautiful dark eyes were open, seeing clearly along his continuing path, unhindered by the vicious cataracts that had stolen his vision in this life. His left rear leg, broken and recovering from surgery, good as new!
Although I shed immediate tears of sadness and disbelief at his loss, I have cried little since. The emptiness in the rooms of our home surrounds me with unexpressed grief. Not unlike my character Kimberly Dorn. Perhaps it will take some time, as it did for her, to release my inner pain.
My sweet boy is gone. His paw prints on my heart will never be replaced.
Grief, like a river, cannot be repressed. It will seek its own release. In tiny streams or perhaps in a flood. Each must find his or her own way and time to let go of this grief. Hopefully I will release it before the river’s rainbow meets the bridge.