Seeing Ghosts and the Addiction of Solitude

Sunset at Higgins Beach

Dear Pepsi,

Time continues to pass; however, not one day goes by without thoughts of you flooding my head and heart. The longing does not subside. I continue to tear up at the mention of your name. I am not the only one missing you though, Pearly has changed. She will not play with Pandy as she once did. I watched old videos from the beach and she would always play with Pandy; however, she brushes her off and refuses to engage. She starts barking for no apparent reason and I cannot sooth her when she gets agitated like this. Your Papa said dogs can see "haints", as ghosts are referred to in the South, and that got me thinking about Pearl seeing your ghost. Are you with us Peps? Is she barking to let me know you are here? I look up and see you in your usual spots. On the couch with your head propped up on the armrest, nestled beside me in bed, romping in the water, on the rug in the main bathroom. I often pause, stop dead in my tracks and inhale deeply with closed eyes to receive your energy. If only I could pull you back through the void so I could hold you close, watch you and Pearl play, and cater to your diva ways. 

Peps look alike at the Portland Women's March

I went to the Women's March in Portland last Saturday. Millions of people across the globe marched to protect women's rights and denounce Trump and his policies. We have much to fear over the damage he can cause over the next four years and it will require unyielding resistance. It was amazing how many people turned out, though on a lighter note there quite a few Golden Retrievers, including a sweet nine year old boy who reminded me of you. I spoke with the mom and told her about you as I caressed him and cradled his face close to mine. I showed her pictures of you on my phone and told stories about you that made me chuckle and cry at the same time. When I mentioned cancer her eyes widened - not HSA she asked?  She told me about her other Golden who died in one day when they discovered a large tumor on his spleen. I'm not sure what is worse she said, loosing him in one day or over six weeks knowing he is terminal. I don't know either I told her, but for sure the end result is heartbreaking regardless if it is one day or one month. I hugged him tight before saying goodbye. As I walked away his mom called out your name in a tribute to you. I raised my hand and waved back to her, whispering Pepsi girl I miss you so as I moved through the crowd.

Pandy and Pearl keeping your spot warm

Pepsi I want you to know we are hanging in there despite our grieving. I manage a smile, give your sisters lots of hugs and kisses, and tell them how much I love them. We cuddle, take long walks, play with toys, and spend large quantities of time together since I am fortunate to work at home. They lay at my feet as you did, dozing on and off, rousing to go outside or lure me to play. I don't want you to worry about us, and while I will not lie about how hard it is to slog though life without you, I hope you can find peace from fretting about us. I was a loner before and more of one now. Chuck once said that solitude is addictive and as I get older I crave more and more time alone. Having you girls fills the space once occupied by kids or friends. You all have been my emotional center for over a decade. The idea of going out seems appealing until the time to go approaches and I opt out. My energy is limited, and my tolerance for small talk has been greatly reduced, particularly with the current political situation. I worry I might fly off the handle so I tend to measure myself in relation to the world and be strategic about how I spend time outside of teaching and work obligations. I walk through the door to your sisters and that seems to be more than enough to buffer the potential for loneliness. I sit in the quiet watching children play on the street. I was once a mom dancing to the rhythm of my kids, in constant motion; however, now time feels dense as solitude blankets me. But I am never alone as long as I have my girls. And my memories of you Pepsi girl, my darling soul dog.

Pepsi, my soul dog

Twenty-five years ago I painted a series about dream doors, inspired by the thresholds we cross from place to place in a spiritual, physical, emotional, and relational way. The paintings were a metaphor for the doors that open and close, the heartbreak we experience and the courage it takes to move forward and turn those doorknobs into the great unknown. I made dream doors for my kids, my friends and even gave them to strangers if I felt they needed them. We are galvanized and bolstered by those who believe in us more than we do ourselves. Or perhaps by those who lay at out feet through thick and thin, waiting for us as we walk through the door day after day, as flawed and fantastic as we may be. We bend and break, rebound and hold ourself upright, but never alone, no matter how deeply we cherish our solitude. You kept me from falling off the face of the earth as I delved into the deep space of writing and painting, pulled me out when my reclusive tendencies were hard to resist. There was always a beach, a park, or a walk to be taken and your insistence was not to be ignored. You balanced my universe and helped me shoulder the weight of the world Pepsi girl, and now I find myself struggling for footing without you. 

  Jonathan's Dream Door

So if Papa is right and Pearl is seeing your haint then perhaps I am not crazy. I will take whatever I get of you. Watch over us and know that when I cross the threshold from this dream door to the one where you are we will be together again. Until that time, know how much you are loved and missed. 

Love you Pepsi girl,

Mom