Saturday, June 14, 2014

Gifts of kindness.

I have thought a lot since Zoe's death about the many gifts we were given by the emergency vet hospital.  I wrote in a previous post that being with Zoe, taking care of her basic needs, was the only thing that kept me calm, and that it was even meditative at times.

By allowing me to stay with her and play this role of amateur nurse, they gave me the gift of having more time with Zoe.  But more than that, this extra time had a special quality:  for those three days, when I was with her, I was completely focused on her.  I kept one hand on her at all times, as that was the best way to monitor her heart rate and her breathing.  I thought about her, how special she was, what she meant to me, and I imagined an army of tiny workers (for some reason, men dressed all in white, including construction hats) going into her body and repairing her like a house.  My mind didn't wander.  When they first got us set up to spend the night in an exam room, as I laid down beside her, I thought to myself that whatever the night brought, I was going to see her through this.  If she was going to die, I was going to carry her right up to heaven's gates.  In the meantime, we were just together, and that was all that mattered.

1 comment:

  1. To be consoled;
    As to console.

    I am sorry for your loss, Jenna.

    ReplyDelete