Today is Good Friday. At least for my Christian friends. A day that signifies suffering and death and sorrow (not to put too morose a spin on the day…but it is what it is). And although I don’t practice any religion any longer, today feels like the right day to come to terms with my own sorrow. And acknowledge that, whatever you believe (or don’t), life is a series of highs and lows, all following each other in no particular order.
These highs and lows create a strange pendulum of emotions, each of which has the power to shake your soul. Happiness, sadness, laughter, anger, tears, bitterness, hope. They’re all inside you, waiting to remind you that you aren’t really in control. You might feel like you are in control – you check off the tasks on your to-do list with frightening efficiency, you solve the little problems that crop up with ease and satisfaction, you accomplish things, you reach goals. Feels good, thinking you’re in control, doesn’t it?
And it is raining on the island this morning. For the first time in months. The skies are overcast and the rain is coming down hard. The right soundtrack and ambiance, actually, for writing this painful note.
Today marks two weeks since my beautiful pup, Luna, went on an adventure under our garden fence and disappeared. And I, the one usually in control of everything (or so I like to think), couldn’t find her. I couldn’t solve this problem. And I tried. My friends tried. Total strangers tried. There were even a few pet psychics that tried. (I cannot recommend that last route to anyone else, by the way. Just don’t do it. Please.) But in the end, other than a singular potential sighting a few days after she left, she hasn’t been located.
And this is hard. It is hard not having her here. It is hard not knowing what happened. It is hard thinking about the terrible possibilities. It is hard wondering if someone simply took her for their own. But most of all, it is hard watching her brother adjust to a new life where, for the first time, he doesn’t have his brave, curious, fearless sister to show him the way.
But as hard as it is, I have to keep things in perspective. While I’ve been suffering, I’ve watched friends go through much worse. Much, much worse. So I’m trying to let go, accept and move forward. Besides, I’ve still got one crazy, energetic, goofy boy here who needs love, guidance and walks. Lots and lots of walks.
I also realized during one of my searches for Luna, as I stood on a cliff overlooking the sea with tears streaming down my face, that at that very moment there were people just below me having the time of their life – snorkeling the reef towards a sailboat with its flags flying in the wind. Vacationers from the nearby cruise ship, I assumed. Vacationers who would go to dinner together later and laugh and reminisce about the grand adventures they had that afternoon exploring the beautiful island I call home, oblivious to the woman standing above them among the trees with a broken heart.
And I promised myself that I would remember that moment the next time I am blessed with one of life’s great experiences. And I will be, of course. Blessed, that is. There will be future moments of laughter and smiles and a carefree heart. Not today or tomorrow, but they will come again. And when they do, I will remember to send a kind thought to whoever might be suffering while I am not.
I love you, Luna.
I’m a writer living on the Dutch Caribbean island of Bonaire. Originally from the U.S., I followed my heart to the tropics in 2011 at the wizened age of 43. Since then, I’ve been blogging to inspire and entertain. I love kitesurfing, a good gin & tonic, and corgis.
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