Halloween candy and saying goodbye...

  

     I’m developing a taste for dark chocolate.  I avoided it for years, but I’m strangely drawn to it lately.  For me, it’s taken time to work through the at first sharp bitterness on my tongue and I’ve done so in great part because of the sweetness that rescues me as the bite melts in my mouth.  The resulting richness is so deep and pleasurable and lingers for quite some time.  And...unlike with other candy, a little goes a long way.

I was thinking about this....about bittersweet...last night as I sampled the left over Halloween candy.  My wonderings held particular significance because it was the eve of yet another bittersweet happening in my life.  And there have been a lot of those raining down lately. 

     Webster’s defines bittersweet as “pleasure alloyed with pain.”  Isn’t it true that as humans, our daily lives are a constant dance of pleasure laced with pain? We might not like to admit it, but if we are open to and accepting of both the bitter and the sweet, our experiences can shape us into more compassionate, empathic, deep-feeling people.

Last night marked the two month anniversary of my dog, Casco’s, death.  He was twelve and his life is a testament to the definition of bittersweet.  A fiercely independent, hyper, yet aloof boy, this yellow beast of a dog brought pleasure and pain of all sorts to my life on a daily basis.  His final passing on a Thursday evening was one of the most ridiculously emotional, traumatizing experiences of my life.  For weeks after we had to put this regal animal to sleep in a place he loved dearly (the vet’s office), I couldn’t speak of, or even hear others speak of, his passing without tears welling up and my throat clenching.  Yet....within hours of Casco leaving us, something magical was happening. 

In the middle of the very next day, I got a call from a dear friend.  Her Yellow Lab was beginning to give birth to her first litter of puppies and I was summoned to assist.  I was beside myself with sadness, yet my heart was invited to hold the joy of something amazing and incredibly moving as well.  With tears streaming, I somehow drove myself to Jessie’s side and assisted her in the births of four of her pups.  Talk about sweetness!  Five of the pups were yellow, just like my Casco, and the connectedness of his death and these new lives was profound.   It felt like his passing had made room for these tender babies.  It felt like he had somehow orchestrated this puppy birth (they were early!) for my benefit, for my personal healing. My pain over losing my pal was now laced with the pleasure of helping with the raising of my first litter of pups....and they all reminded me of my best days with him.

And now eight weeks have passed.  The puppies are ready to go home with their new families and I am hosting the transfer here at my puppy school later this afternoon.  Jessie, the Momma dog, will be here along with my sweet friend Vicki, Jessie’s owner.  Together, we will somehow place five of the puppies into the waiting arms of their new owners.  Our hearts will break and grow as we do so.  Each week of the puppies’ lives, I’ve played “litter sitter” on Fridays and have spent countless hours caring for them, while watching in awe as Jessie nurses them, teaches them to fend for themselves and coaches them in all sorts of puppy games.  It has been a deeply emotional experience for me, to say the least.  Our attachment to these warm, delightful bundles of adorableness is strong. 

We know that this is the flow of life...that pups need good homes and wonderful families to share in the joy of raising them.  Just like I knew when I took Casco into my life that someday he would no longer be with me, that I would surely outlive him, we also knew that Jessie’s pups would leave her and us when they were eight weeks old.  It’s a bittersweet day and feels very much like an ending and a beginning all at once.  The things we love go away, and we grow.  We grow from having experienced the cycle of life in all its glory, gore and ordinariness.  We grow by keeping our hearts open despite the knowledge that with the sweetness comes some pain...and some magic too.  

      Today, I am grateful for left over Halloween candy....  I’ll be choosing the dark chocolates, savoring the sweetness, and remembering Casco’s gift.