The Art of Chewing

 

There was a full moon on the summer solstice, June 20th and I made plans to spread the ashes of my two girls (dog girls) in the garden that evening. Clipsy made her transition April, 2006 and her beautiful daughter Ammulett, made her transition November 2013 so they had passed a bit ago and in the weeks previous to the full moon I had thought on occasion that a ‘letting go’ needed to be done, though I still am not sure why I felt that way. The thought drifted in and out of my mind for weeks until I determined that the energies just felt right for it on this particular day, so I arranged a nice ceremony and went to get their urns.

 

 As I picked up Ammulett’s urn I suddenly got cold feet. I thought, ‘No-no, not yet! I’m not ready’. I placed the urn back down, admittedly a bit relieved.  But soon that feeling of needing to do the release returned-a bothersome inkling of ‘unfinished’ came to mind. I told myself I should really let their ashes go…or then again, maybe not yet…So I spent a few hours waffling as I like to do  because I couldn’t quite preform the task nor could I ignore it needed to be done.  I would pick up the urns, put down the urns. Pick up the urns, put down the urns. It was almost comical.  And I was surprised not only by the fact that I couldn’t walk away from the doing, even though it made me a bit sad -but how much worse it felt to leave it undone.

 

 In my mind, the event should have been simple.  Have a nice little ceremony, spread the ashes and have a celebration in remembrance of all the blessings they brought to my life. Done.  After all the girls had been gone for some time. I had moved on.

 

That’s when it occurred to me I am like a cow… a ruminating jersey cow. I think I have let go of something and then BAM! at some later date I regurgitate it so I can chew on it awhile…again. It doesn’t really matter what it is…it could be anger, loss or mistrust… it creeps back in when I least expect it and then I have to get it back in that box, where it must not have been to begin with...or truly let it go.

 

 That’s when I realized the girls weren’t in the little boxes and they never were.

 

Whether or not I had a prompt or not, their memories would continue to bubble up here and there throughout my life…ruminating is not all bad. It gives me a chance to chew on something until all that is left is the sweetness.

 

June 20th was a beautiful evening. A proper summer evening with a low sun kissed by a light breeze to dance away the heat as the shadows grew long across the garden. The perfume deep with fresh, damp grass.  Twilight thinned the veil between the worlds and within the ceremony, I sprinkled Ammulett’s ashes in the corner of the yard where she liked to spend hours making dove eyes at a senior golden retriever named Spencer, who was likewise enchanted. Clipsy’s ashes were spread next to her daughter’s. I didn’t know at the time that Ammulett’s lovely little daughter Vision would join them just seven days later. Perhaps that was why it was important for me to do the ceremony on that day, I confess I have not a clue to The Master Plan.

 

Then I sat under my big silver maple to watch the full moon bloom in a darkening sky and ruminated.

 

And smiled as I chewed.

 

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