“I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?
Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.”
~ I Worried, Mary Oliver
man’s best friend
Scrappy is mom and dad’s dog. His early life left him traumatized such that he disliked nearly everyone, especially men, except dad. Over the last two weeks, as dad declined and more strangers entered the house, Scrappy became less fearful. He stopped growling and snapping. Instead, he began lying quietly at the foot of dad’s bed and accepted pats from anyone that offered a hand. When the funeral home arrived last night, Scrappy watched without moving a muscle or making a sound. Today he is visibly sad, but if he could talk on the phone, get texts, or read his social media, he would see how much love and respect Hero’s passing has thrown our way, and he would be as we are, lifted by love and grateful beyond all telling.
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