Anniversaries can be a time for reflection and hope. To humbly give pause. Whatever the milestone – XXII, VI, I, 6 months, 30 days, 1 day. Years or days or moments – all time passes, like life. Sober/high, ill/well, flush/broke, married/divorced, fear/love, the best and the worst of time passes.
Not knowing at the time, my last drink wasn’t spectacular. During my drinking/drugging life, fantasy was always grander than the reality. If the circumstances warranted, “the last” would have been just another after the mess was cleaned up. Again! On this Monday night at Cattle Company on 494 I was “suppose” to start the five-week outpatient treatment program. The idea was it would “look” good in court. The treatment canceled for the night because the temperature was unsafe for travel and the state basically shut down. I went to the bar….because that’s what you do. The emptiness of that large half drank beer is still vivid. The flash and fun had long run out. The cost always too great. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. The drink was pushed away and I went home.
Reflecting back on the journey I can say with complete certainty, time goes fast. Life is perfect with room for improvement. Shit hits the fan. Amazing moments happen. We show up in ways unimaginable before. Joy happens. In the journey. At different points quickly and often felt slowly. Always with hope for a better tomorrow.
Holding my children as they were born.
Wiping my mom’s last lonely tear as her life passed.
Make and lost a few nickles.
Feel love even when the heart gets broke.
Raised two wonderful kids.
Consistently run/exercise while nourishing my body, well.
Walk through an early stage cancer scare.
One Old-Timer (RIP Bill M.) gave me a card early on, it has since become my guiding principle. I am responsible for my own Karma/Kamma.
Last night, a regular night with my kids, we shared moments of laughter about our super wonderful dog, Rebos, that had passed a while back. The depth of gratitude felt for these “regular” moments is immeasurable. I get life today. Free! In all it’s wonderful messiness.
Thank you to the people and pieces that have been in place that allowed me to learn.
NOTE: You will potentially see a shit ton of errors, misspellings, and grammatical opportunities in my writing. Some intentional. Some not. Offer input on the not by editing this post here. Thank you!!
Having a deep family history of the farms, dogs on the farm, and many lives being cut short due to the fact that they chase cars and sometimes actually catch them. Every once in a while the dogs catch a car, get “rolled” and learn the valuable lesson to stop. Those are the rarity.
Floyd was a “rescue” dog of sorts. He came from the “cities” where I encountered him as I was running in the woods close to the Humane Society. The owner was “walking” him, he was loose running a 1/4 mile from her. When I started petting Floyd and holding him until she came I noticed the obvious tears. She was “turning” him into the society with much reservation due the fact it was his second trip there and the likelihood he would be retired. She couldn’t keep him confined in the kennel and wasn’t able to “run” him as his bread like to do. He was a Blue Healer – They liked to herd cattle, it’s instinctual for them without much training. Through conversations with my uncle and cousin, one good option was to send Floyd to the farm.
If “all dogs go to heaven” then this is a situation where Floyd went to heaven before dying. Right away, he became the happiest dog – literally. He was able to run free, herd cows, chase cats, lay in the grass, ride in farm trucks, eat an abundance of food, and chum around with another farm dog, Marble. Every time I went to the farm Floyd was ecstatic. Did he remember me? Did he remember our first meeting in the woods? Was this just the way his life lived?
Floyd had one habit that he was very good at…chasing cars.
Right away Floyd started chasing cars. Much work went into trying to rid him of this habit. Training, collars, riding in trucks, not riding in trucks, and a whole LOT of yelling STOP or KNOCK IT OFF FLOYD! Even Marble would try to head off Floyd and keep him away from the cars. Often with dogs chasing cars the more they practice the closer they get to the wheels. Yesterday my cousin called letting me know Floyd had caught a truck turning around in the yard. :-(
This was sad news, for sure. He was a great dog with a very happy life. Perfect some might say. The fact that is was cut short by him doing something he LOVED to do is confusing. The peace of the situation comes from knowing that he lived many days in bliss and wagging his tail.