Picking up the Pieces

Anyone that has lost a pet knows what I am going through.  I thought I was through the worst of it and like the sea ebbs, so are my emotions.  My partner and I have been giving each other alot of hugs and trying to show more attention to our other animals (cats) so that they can get on with some simblance of normalcy.  What is that, by the way?

During the day, I manage to get through the hours but at night, although I am surrounded by my partner and other pets, I find I am still picking up the pieces of a shattered soul.  At night, I've been trying to finish my next book, a collection of essays and short stories and I've accomplished it.  Not easily, as I was picking the brain of a wiser, more experienced scribe for insight along the way.  The feedback was just beyond my grasp each time.  So, it eventually revealed itself that I would need to rely on myself as always.  No amount of opposition from me would change that. 
The comfortableness of "known" are at bay for me right now.  The unknown is never easy and it seems much larger in the still of night.  There's a learning opportunity here if I bother to shuffle the stack of life lessons around and contemplate.  But, I'm weary from my travels and the dust of grief is difficult to shake.

I'm currently asking others to review the book and have even designed my own cover.  Normally, this is a joyous time in a writer's life.  But, with financial times being uncertain and my little soulmate gone;

 now that this book is done, I can still work on my other one in progress.  Perhaps that is what I should do.  But it seems that all I can do is pick up the slivers of my soul from the ground.

More Musings Later-

Are you There?

Traveling a journey with a much loved companion can be so rewarding and by the same token, can be so desparately painful when the road is rocky and uncertain.

I've had the joy and the priviledge to share this wondrous, yet painful path with my best friend.  She began her journey healthy as a horse and in later years became arthritic, anxious and started the painful path of dementia.  There is nothing more painful than looking within the familiar eyes of recognition and finding a hopelessly lost gaze struggling to recall any hint of memory as they return your stare. 

Last night was enough to crush my heart.  I watched my best friend wander from room to room, a perpetual lost look in her eyes and screaming in pain if her body was touched in certain places.  When I tried to comfort her, the sound of my voice fell upon deaf ears and my familiar gaze lost upon failing eyesight.  As she paced and paced, I knew her quality of life was as diminshed as her memory. 

The next morning, I called the doctor and made arrangements.  I helped her into the car one last time and the doctor came in with the injection.  As my friend laid down on the examining table, I held her head and kissed her on the side of her face.  I told her how beautiful and loving she was and that I would always love her.  For a rare moment, her big brown eyes looked at me with recognition and understanding and then as I held her, the light that was so brilliant in her eyes, slowly faded into darkness.

Today, February 22, 2010, I put down my beloved beagle, "Baby."  I had her from the time she was 8 weeks old to the ripe age of 13 years and 9 months.  If I could wish for one thing in her honor, it would be that people would donate food and supplies to your local Humane Society shelters. 

Rest in Peace, Baby Simpson

May 1, 1996 -  February 22, 2010

The Ugly Truth is Better than a Beautiful Lie

I've said it for years and I stand behind it. Don't get me wrong, it can be hard to take...the ugly truth, that is. But, make no mistake; you know exactly where you stand.

By now, most of you know how badly I hate Corporate America. Guess what? I still do. I've been working for this particular client for a couple of years now I guess and really enjoyed writing and brainstorming for her. She is an intelligent, albeit naive client. She has built a staff of impressive workers with the exception of one. Enter confrontation.

The exception of one was a point of contention from day one. This person bullied and horned their way through my accomplishments and work, claiming it for their own. Sound familiar? Yep, good ole Office Politics at play, even from the consulting side. I won't give too many particulars, but I had enough. I gave my resignation today and the client accepted it.

I enjoyed working for her and believed in what she was trying to accomplish. The thing that is causing a bad taste in my mouth is that when I confronted the client about this person, she denied it and I believed her. I've been through this before, but I believed her. She assured me that I was totally wrong and that she had no such intention. And, I believed her. I believed her.

I think I wanted so badly to believe that there are decent people on the corporate ladder, that I believed her.

I can't believe I let myself believe her. The wounds from when it happened years ago are now fresh and bleeding again.

And, I believed her. Yeah, I'd rather have the Ugly Truth than a Beautiful Lie.

More Musings Later-