For the first time since Raj died, mom actually bathed, dressed
herself, went out for a decent meal, a latte, read the Rolling
Stone edition Connieeee sent her featuring an interview with her
favorite on-air personality, Jon Stewart of "The Daily Show"
and she ordered blueberry pancakes for breakfast tomorrow
in case we got snowed in. Then she got us freshly squeezed,
raw, organic carrot juice!
We gave up fighting for normalcy after we lost Raj. Her health-
care providers all come here anyway, she just kind of went into
shock, took care of us, and did the barest necessities...I can tell
the story most objectively having been here the shortest, but
everyone went to sleep in darkness and woke up in darkness
no matter what the hour was, and mom just kept saying to people
on the phone how great her friends were, that she couldn't believe
what wonderful friends she had! That was about all we felt we had.
And since YumYum was suddenly (surprisingly) behaving in an
unexpectedly magnanimous way towards newbies, he allowed not
one, but two new pigs to live with him in the brand new gigantic
pen that our anonymous benefactor bought for us...and he hasn't had a live-in friend since PandaPig, the original founder of our
Sanctuary, passed away: Now he has three! We all loved being
together, got along, each played, ate, drank, popcorned, slept,
and snuggled in perfect harmony and even though I'm the size
of a Pacific Northwest Logger, I am still a baby, too...and need a herd...and knew I was being groomed for the most important job ahead: to comfort Raj once his pneumonia was cured. Then he died sleeping next to mom under the covers that cruel night and both mom and YumYum became inconsolable and nobody remembers what I lost: this wee little scamp here, VinnyGuinea!
Now, YumYum and I share him and our own brand new gigantic
pig-pen is due to arrive Monday and can actually be attached to
YumYum's as long as mom is ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY CERTAIN that YumYum can't "get me" or that I can't jump over
given my hay trough vaulting abilities...
Thing is, it's Saturday and mom had her first pin-prick of Real
Life and Real Hope Day with a hot breakfast, latte, and the Rolling Stone. But I needed to tell you all that I lost something
too: the happiness of fitting in, of belonging, of having my own herd, of snuggling up in a fuzzy sleeping bag with that little scamp all soft and velvety...sharing a wheatgrass breakfast on
Runabout. We all lost a lot.
But one pin-prick of hope, mom knows from experience, always
brings more. And, over time, pin-pricks of hope become intertwined into Joy which become threads of continuity which
become woven into a fabric where smiling replaces weeping which create a fabulous new quilt into which the pinpricks
of grief become fewer and fewer as the memories become
transformed into one's history that begins to mellow into smile
which will always bring with it tears but with those tears come
the recognition that our lives have been made all the more
beautiful because they were in them.
love,
Bhindi
I am not Bhindi.
