Friday, August 12th, was the second anniversary of my mother's death. She died at age 55 from a brain tumor, glioblastoma multiforme. My mother came out to visit me for a week, then died the day after she went back home to Kansas. A few days before she died, we all went to the coast and I can honestly say that I think it was a great day for my mother, and that it was probably her last great day of her life.
Last year and this year on August 12th, my father and I have sort of loosely recreated that day by making a trip to the coast. This year, we took the kids and I also took the ashes of my guide dog, Mara, who had died last year. Her ashes have been sitting in a box on my desk waiting to be put in the Pacific. It was by far her favorite thing to do as a yellow labrador to go running around on the beach, splashing in the ocean, and chasing after birds. So I went up to a cliff at Ecola State Park and spread her ashes out down the cliff.
Then just today, I had a message on my machine that my good friend, Niklas, who I met at Guide dog school in 1993; his dog died this weekend. Jats was a black lab, and only a few months older than Mara would have been. So it is kind of the end of an era. Single Lisa with a guide dog is gone. Mom Lisa who gets more attention for having twins than for having a dog is the new reality.
Nik and I have kind of planned to get new guide dogs together after ours were gone. I hope we can still do that. But right now I don't have anyone to watch the kids for the required four weeks of training and two babies and a dog seem like a bit much right now. So we'll see what happens. I don't know if Nik will want to wait that long.
I do OK without a guide dog. I can use a cane at night and travel with the stroller pulling behind me, but we really don't go out much at night anymore. We are sleeping! Mara helped me the most by just keeping me more aware of my environment; alerting me when people were approaching and being kind of like an extra sense. When she died, it was as if someone had chopped off my left arm. I felt like half of my surface area and the volume of my body was gone. In a way, it was harder than my mother dying. I think it is because I didn't see my mother every day. I mourned the future grandmother for my kids when my mother died. When Mara died it was like a part of me dying. The babies have been quite a distraction from all that. But I think I'm getting used to it.
My mother's sister, my aunt Gail called me today. She has been really supportive of me and the babies and of D, also. She is pretty laid back and non-judgmental. It was nice to hear from her. I'm trying to decide if I should share the blog with her. I don't know if she really wants to read all of my drivel but she might enjoy the pictures of the babies.
I am sorry to hear of the losses of your mom and Mara; both so hard, in different ways. The Pacific is a wonderful place, indeed! I agree, it is strange to share the blog with real life folks; I have done it, but it always makes me think twice...
Take care! Really enjoying your blog, btw!
Posted by: Kristin / Intrepid Murmurings | August 16, 2005 at 08:11 AM