The Bench

 

 

Heading towards the gazebo to see mom’s memorial for the first time, I had a picture in my mind of how wonderful her bench would be on the fishing pier where we could look out at the pond and the water fountains as she and I, as well as other family members, had done so many times.  

Since going to mom’s burial site is too far to be convenient, our family wanted some place special where we could go when we needed to feel her presence.

My excitement turned to surprise and disappointment when I saw that there was only the original bench on the pier.  Mom’s bench was supposed to be positioned next to that bench.  Instead mom’s bench was placed at the entrance of the pier facing the walkway and looking away from the pond.  I must not of made myself clear how important the placement and direction of the bench was to us.”

 

Confused I immediately started snapping photos and texted those to Jerome, Jamie and Ron to let them know that there must have been a misunderstanding I would never have suggested facing the bench that way.   I wanted everyone visiting to sit and enjoy what we found so soothing and comforting.

While I took the time to text, I sat down on mom’s bench. Although not the scenery I had planned on looking at, the view was quite beautiful as I gazed at the gazebo, the gorgeous wild flowers and roses.

A father and his mentally challenged teenage son clasping fishing poles passed me on their way towards the pier.  The father stopped and mentioned to me that his son’s grandmother lived in one of the homes surrounding the pond.  He shared that he and his son would come and attempt to fish wherever they visited her.  The son was clearly excited to be fishing with his dad. 

The son wanted to know why I was sitting on the bench.  I mentioned that this was a special bench in my mom’s memory.  He asked me where she was and I told him heaven.  He said something funny.  “Your mom went to heaven and left you her bench.” 

I smiled and said, “Something like that . . . what she left me were memories.  When I sit here I remember them.   I showed him the gold plate with her name on the bench.” 

He went off to tell his father what I had just told him.  “Dad, that lady is sitting on her mom’s bench.”  The dad smiled back at me.  The son hurried back over by me and said, “I didn’t know that bench was your mom’s.  I promise I won’t sit on it.” 

“Of course you can sit on it whenever you want.”

“I can!”

The son ran back to his father saying, “Dad, the lady says I can sit on the bench when I want.” Most of the son’s time was spent running back and forth to me asking questions. Their conversation and the son’s excitement made me smile and I bet mom was smiling, too.

While watching them, I was remembering mom telling me how much she loved fishing here with her friends from the supportive living facility.  I can still see the bright smile on her face when she spoke about the huge fish she caught.   I remember how proud mom was to show me the photo of her and the fish.  Although she spoke of that day often, I have never seen anyone out there fishing until this day.

 

The father and his son did not stay long.  The father may have thought that his son was bothering me asking so many questions over and over again, but I did not mind.  I was enjoying just sitting there.

As they walked away, my eyes focused on the gazebo where a mother and daughter were sitting looking out at the pier.  Funny that I had never seen another mother and daughter doing what we used to do although I am sure many do.  We were the mother and daughter gazing out at the pier and the beauty surrounding this lovely area. The mother was in a wheelchair just like mom had been and the daughter was sitting on her right side just like I used too. 

 

I could not help thinking about the Friday before mom passed.  We sat there like we did so many times before.  Mom felt good.  There was no indication that this would be our last time there together.  Our visit was like so many other nice visits.

Then something magical happened: it dawned on me that the bench was exactly where mom placed it.   I believe she wanted her family not to focus on just the beauty of the pond, but to take in everything especially where we sat and remember our times together. 

While I sat reminiscing about some of our times in the gazebo, I saw first one then two white butterflies frolicking around the flowers and each other.  As hard as I tried to take photos of them, I could not seem to see them through my camera lenses.  Both butterflies seemed to dance around me and fly away.

 

On my way out, I stopped inside the gazebo where I imagined mom and me.  I said out loud, “Nice going, Mom, I’m so glad you approve of the bench.  You picked the perfect view.”  

 

 

Grandma's Baby

 

Today we celebrate the life of one great puppy, companion, son, and sweetest tough guy we have ever known.  He was given many names BaciBoy, Mr. B, LoverBoy, Sweet Boy, Mommies’ Baby, Daddy’s Tough guy, Our little man, Stud, Studmaster and Grandma’s Boy.

Ron and I hit the jackpot when Baci became part of our family.  From the moment we laid eyes on him, ‘He was ours and we were his’.

We felt blessed each and every day with him.  We thank God for giving him to us for the reason that we needed him as much as he needed us.

He had gorgeous Big Brown Eyes that made everyone comment (even grown men) how handsome he was.  No one could help but fall in love with him. Even his vet called him a stud from the start.  I would melt every time he looked at me. Ron always accused me of spoiling him.  Ron was right and Baci knew he was spoiled.  Both of his grandmas’ loved holding him and he soaked up all their attention.

 

Baci was a special needs puppy from an early age. We thank God for giving him to us for the reason that we needed him as much as he needed us.

Within the first three months of his life, he fell four feet and broke his jaw.  His mouth had to be wired and he had to be spoon fed for months.  Soon afterwards we found out that he had severe allergies requiring a special diet and multiple medications to comfort him for life.  Years later he started needing to be bathed several times a week to control the itching.

Amongst many other conditions, Baci developed Cushing’s disease.  He had terrible calcium deposits growing all over his body. He did not want to be touched.  These growths itched terribly even though as recommended by his vet and doggie dermatologist we bathed him in medicated shampoo every other day and treated him with all sorts of both topical and internal medication.  We tried unsuccessfully to stop the itching and control the growths but they continued to spring up everywhere like weeds. 

 

 

 

 

His saving grace from the itching was when we put him in sleepers to keep him from scratching or licking himself raw. He also looked absolutely adorable. During the last few weeks he seemed most comfortable in his sleeper and would once again allow us and others to cuddle him in his outfit.   Unfortunately not only did they continue to multiply, his growths opened and bled, no matter what we tried we could not heal him.

During the last few weeks, he had a horrible time swallowing and we believe the growths may have also been growing inside. We not only tried adding water to his food, hand feeding him, grinding his food in an Oscar, and giving him soft food, but in the end eating was a huge effort on his part.  He kept losing weight and strength.

The last few days we were given many signs that we needed to let him go:  he had a seizure and let out a blood curdling scream; when he tried to stand up his paws would give up; and his body would go limp sometimes when we held him.  What were we waiting for  . . . to feel we did everything we could  . . . to give him so much love that we have no regrets.  We promised ourselves we would not allow him to linger when there was no hope.

Yesterday Ron called his vet to tell him we were confident that tomorrow was time.  Baci’s vet was on vacation this week not to return to his practice until next Tuesday.  However Baci’s vet loved him so much he had given us his cell phone in case of emergency for Baci’s special care.  When we spoke to him he said he would meet us at the animal hospital whenever we wanted. 

We gave Baci the perfect send-off.  This morning we treated him to all of his favorite things:  First, we cuddled him and had him lay with us in bed; second, we fed him all his favorite food and treats:  peanut butter, popcorn, and bananas; and third, we sat in the family room this morning watching TV while he laid comfortably in our arms as we took turns loving him.

At 10:50am Ron, Porsha, Baci, and I all went to the vet’s office.  We were not in the private room for more than five minutes with the vet when Baci let out a scream as blood curdling as a few nights ago as if to say, “Please mom and dad no second thoughts let me go!”  The vet told us he had another seizure and would continue to have them more frequently.  We understood that no matter how unpleasant the time was right.

Everyone gave Baci kisses including Porsha who needed the closure as well.  He also said that when he was leaving his home his youngest son said, “Dad you have to go to work on your vacation?”  He answered, “Just for a little while, Baci is sick and needs to go home.”  His son replied, “Dad, I am so sorry.” Tears rolled down his face telling us that story.  We knew how much he truly loved Baci too.

Baci passed in my arms with Ron hugging me.  To our surprise Baci’s vet put his arms around us and with tears in his eyes said, ‘Baci will be missed by everyone here too.  He was very special.’

 

We all sat in silence for awhile Ron and I kissing Baci while expressing our love. Then with heavy hearts, we handed Baci to his vet for his final rest.   Porsha seemed to understand.  She did not have anxiety about leaving there without her brother like she normally would when he has had to stay.  Dogs have a special sense about them.  Her best friend was gone; he was only a memory now.

 

Amazing to us are all the coincidences that followed:  After we left the Animal Hospital, we passed a garage sale where a huge 8-foot inflatable bear holding a heart in his paws with the words ‘I love you!’ 

 

I believe it was God’s way of telling us that Baci loved us very much and that he was in God’s hands now. 

Within a half hour we were outside sitting on the grass with Porsha when a white butterfly came dancing around us.  I believe mom was saying ‘No worries Baci’s with me.  I will love Baci with my whole heart and soul.’

Baci’s vet’s name is Doctor Faith. (I have never thought about his name before today, but how appropriate).  We have faith that someday when we all go to heaven we will all be together again with all of our loved ones including all our puppies.

Baci was truly one of the best gifts God has ever blessed us with.  We are thankful for all the quality time He gave us with Mr. B. 

Although we know Baci is no longer in any pain, Ron, Porsha, and I are all feeling a tremendous loss today.