The Dog Bed

Super soft

dusk gray

cozy

velvet pillow

arched & rising

from the floor

thick foam

bolster

to rest a chin

or lay a head

reaching out

to cradle & comfort

old joints

tired bones–

empty again

(c) Mary Harrison, 8-4-12

Advertisements

Thinking of sweet Muffy, Betsy and Scott

It’s been rough.  Today, all day, I did nothing.  I felt physically and mentally ill.

Muffy was put to sleep about a month ago in the ER.  She was dying of cancer of the liver; Betsy died Wednesday morning at home.  It all happened so fast.  She seemed okay.  Then she became ill and died.  Her ashes were delivered today.

And today is the anniversary of my son Scott’s  suicide.  I always dread August.  The day Scott killed himself, we were having a heat wave.  And now, again.

There’s always such guilt involved when a loved one, so close, dies.  What were the signs it was going to happen?  Why didn’t I see?  What could I have done to save my son?  My baby girls?  Was I inattentive, negligent in some way?  The questions haunt you, disturb/prevent sleep, tie your stomach in a knot so that you can’t eat.

Karen came with gifts, as usual.    She’s here visiting her mother; always comes by when she’s here.  Today she brought a cinnamon roll from the bakery on National and some lovely tomatoes,cucumbers and watermelon from a fruit stand.  I took a few bites of the cinnamon roll, had a tomato for supper.

My heart is breaking.  My mind isn’t really working.  I’ll tell the stories of Muffy, Betsy and Scott another time.  Just wanted to mention them on this day.