- Lisa Shaw writes · Ingrid Takes Her Rightful Place
- Ingrid Takes Her Rightful Place by Lisa Shaw It has been a few weeks since my last communication. It’s not that I have been hiding; in truth, Mom has been hiding from me. She hears the whispers and shoos them aside; she feels the nudges and then scratches her arm lightly, saying it’s just a random muscle spasm. She touches my collar which still sits on her night stand and says, “someday I will put this in a drawer” and turns on the TV. Lately she fears that each time she hears from me it will be the last time. She wants to stretch out the silences, to elasticize our bond. But love is already elastic; it thrives in all intervals. While I was preparing to die in Florida, a litter of Irish Water Spaniel pups was born in Minnesota, the same day, April 18, 2018. You see how the Universe balances. As my body failed, ten newborns were just stretching theirs, wiggling into life. And this litter is related to both me and Luinigh. After much consideration, Mom took one. Her name is Mary, after the song Let It Be….”in my hour of darkness she is standing there in front of me, speaking words of wisdom…” But don’t be fooled; both Mom and I know I’m the wise one talking in the darkness, wise enough to know it was my departure that sent Mom plummeting there. For this I am deeply sorry, so I nod approvingly as Mary leads her out. Now I nudge Mary as well as Mom. I showed her how to climb up the ottoman into the bed on her first night here. I directed her to the futon I lounged on during the day. I smile when she uses my crate, my leash, chews my Nylabone. I watch as she brings Mom a joy still perforated by sadness. She is so afraid she will lose me. And it is because of this I will, in some painless way, free her from me. Sadness should never be the conduit between two loving beings who are physically apart. In the coming days I hope Mom learns that fading memory is not a condition of letting go and that releasing sorrow is never equivalent to relinquishing Love.
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