I’ve never been a big believer in “signs from the universe” and other new age-y stuff. But every now and again my skepticism is challenged.
Our dog Georgia passed last week, and I’ve taken her death much harder than I had anticipated. I thought I was prepared, but it turns out nothing can really prepare you for losing one of your best friends. Despite knowing that she lived a life of luxury compared to what most animals endure at the hands of humanity, I started to feel overcome by guilt and “should haves.” I should have let her stay longer at the beach. I should have given her more of her favorite treats. Should have taken her on more trips, more walks, had more fun. I should have hugged her longer. Told her I loved her more often.
The last morning of her life, I stroked her and rocked her in my arms. I gave her her favorite veggie bologna, but in my distressed state of mind, I didn’t think to give her some peanut butter, too. I wish I had given her some peanut butter too.
I drove myself crazy wondering: Did I do enough for her? Did she know how deeply I cared about her? Did she truly feel loved?
Anyone who read my tribute to Georgia knows how obsessed she was with rocks and the sea. On our last morning together, we visited a tucked-away stretch of beach that we’d never been to before. It was special in that it was completely covered in beautiful, smooth ocean rocks of all shapes and sizes. We thought: if Georgia were to design her own Nirvana, this is what it would look like. So early this morning, we returned to that same spot with her ashes to say goodbye. We brought three flowers from our garden (one from me, one from my husband and one from our dog Lucy) and placed them atop her ashes in the calm, shallow water. We talked about how lucky we were to have known her and walked tearfully back to the car.
The car we drive came with Sirius Radio. I know it’s annoying, but I generally leave it set to the Coffee House. It’s a great channel if you don’t mind listening to the same 20 songs over and over again (which apparently I don’t). After they had finished playing “Share the Moon” for the 12,000th time, I saw the words “Loves Me Like A Rock” flash across the screen. Soon Paul Simon was singing…
My mama loves me, she loves me
She get down on her knees and hug me
She loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And loves me
She love me, love me, love me, love me
I’ve never heard that song played on The Coffee House before and I couldn’t help but think it was a message from my little Georgia – letting me know that she did indeed feel my love. And she felt it in a way that was as strong and everlasting as her favorite thing in the world: a rock.
If this is what it feels like to receive “signs from the universe” then I think I might be a believer from now on. Thank you Georgia (and Paul) for giving me closure and peace. Yes, baby, your momma loves you like a rock!
—
photo credit
What a moving story Jo! And it’s true – Our minds like the universe, are so uncomprehensively vast and complex. Who can really say why and how messages reach us? But between dreams, coincidences and the unexplained we master what it takes to make sense of it all… Especially when healing is critical to our emotional survival.
After my Dad died, for me it was a bee who circled a single flower growing in the most unlikely, concreted lot… Why I stopped to look in the cold and wind – Who knows? But in his buzzing and weaving that I observed for minutes (that felt like eternity) I got his profound message… He circled around and around, and with each passing he told me every thing was safe, in order and okay. And that life continues… And to find strength… It helped. And I did.
I am grateful for the way that bee spoke to me… And the way the memories of Georgia and her rocks spoke to you. I’m glad you shared this story as it is good to know a beloved friend is finding the comfort and peace she deserves.
Love! The rock of ages! Beautiful!
Your Georgia knew without a doubt you loved her. So beautiful, so moving, this made me cry. I am so sorry for your loss, and I know you’ve been hit so hard by this. I am glad for this beautiful sign though that you received, and I do believe it was a sign from Georgia.
The mysteries of the universe are vast, and perhaps it makes sense to skeptically examine skepticism sometimes. We’re always finding out new things; what is true, what is eternal? Love – which you gave to Georgia and she felt in abundance. Thank you again for showing us one of the most precious, powerful. and transcendental qualities of the world. Georgia’s loving spirit lives on forever. Hugs and peace to you, my friend.
Bea, Sarah and Gary – thank you so much for reading this and leaving such heartfelt comments…I appreciate it so much… xoxoxo