The Sting of A Scythe

Separation stings like the swath of a scythe. Enduring a fair share, albeit light by comparison to most, has put a slight damper on our spirits. Thus the silence in our posts, lacking any creativity or the energy.

We finally lost our sweet Rosie-girl (Golden Retriever of 12 years). [I know, we posted while last in China that she was gone for good, but revived like a cat with nine-lives.] Her departure brought us much lower than we ever expected. Gentle strokes against her soft, warm snout while she closed her eyes under a strong sedative, opened the floodgates of quiet tears and a decade of memories. After the last beat of her heart, I lifted her warm, lifeless body and gingerly placed her in a shell with a comfortable blanket. We whispered to her a sweet, "Good-bye, Rosie", and then saw the last of her. That day marked the end of an era for our family, a time when all three of our first set of kids roamed about the house with the smell of a furry canine and the remnants of hair throughout. Weeks have passed, but our hearts still ache. She was a dog, but now we understand the pain others have felt knowing that she really was much more than that. God was good to let us have her so. Now hardly a day goes by when we don't say to one another, "I miss Rosie."

In contrast, we lifted our spirits by soon traveling to Colorado to vacation with Austin, Meagan and her parents (the Kirkpatrick's). Populating their household from four to ten was taken in good stride. We quickly felt at home. Our week adjacent to the Rockies, ever in view and sometimes in their midst, might rank as the highlight of our summer. But with that high came the low of another good-bye. Separating from Austin, Meagan and the Kirkpatrick's was a grief observed, again much stronger than we anticipated. Suddenly we were a family, less some. Austin was right when he said to me while standing beneath the expanse of the stars one warm evening, "All seems right and as it should be when we're all together." Yes, and all seems not so right when we're not.

Finally, I will say "good-bye" to a long-time passion for the sake of another. Elaborate I will not, but the time has come and I must move on and release. And yet again I feel the loss to a stronger degree than I ever expected. It's hard to let go.

God did not create us for separation. That's why its sting will lose its victory, at least in the end. For now He sedates with a love like none other. The numbness will one day be gone forever.