senses. a memory.
{see}
My apartment in Indiana, late March 2001. Books are stacked on shelves, on each other, on the floor. Storypeople adorn the walls. I sit on my purple chenille couch, the calypso flower print comforter from my bed across my lap. Next to me, curled up with his head on my lap, is my new companion, Traveler. I traveled to Tennessee to pick him up; his previous experiences are unknown to me, but he seems to realize he has found his forever home. He has lived with me for nine days. His fur is golden red; he wears a red collar and a green bandana. The only light is from the television. We are tucked into the couch, cuddled up, sharing the comforter watching Natalie Portman have a baby, fall in love, run away from love, run back to it in Where the Heart Is. Traveler's eyes are usually closed. He must have learned these lessons already.
{taste}
Rich, cold chocolate ice cream. What more could a girl want. My memory chooses to believe it was Haagen Daz right from the carton.
{smell}
A candle burns and the slight scent of sandlewood fills the air. I bend down to kiss Traveler's nose and smell his doggy breath that still has the faint odor of his dinner.
{hear}
A driver revs a car engine and peels out at the stop sign. The refrigerator hums. The heater kicks on. Traveler sighs, yawns, sighs again. Drama abounds through the language, words, feelings that sound through the television speakers. Toward the end of the movie, I hear my own breath as tears fall and I cry.
{feel}
Trav's soft fur as I stroke his head with my fingertips. The cold ice cream as I indulge. The soft cotton of my orange and red striped pajama pants. As I watch the last few moments of the movie, my heart seems to pause for a moment. Will I ever find this love? Even crappy, over-dramatized movie kind of love. Will anyone ever look at me and want to stop the world just to be with me? Will I always be alone? I begin to cry. Traveler moves his head to my hand and I feel the warmth of his breath. My tears stop. I feel my heart begin to beat again. I have enough. I am enough. I hear my own voice say out loud, "If it is just you and me Traveler, it will be okay."
{and know}
It is only when you let go of controlling the dream that you can be quiet enough to see it when it crosses your path. (Three weeks later my husband and I went on our first date.)
This post is dedicated to my first golden child Traveler. A year ago today, Jon and I had to let Trav go. I miss him but know I am blessed that he gave me such gifts.
senses
Reader Comments (9)
oh Trav! I love the nickname and I love that you gave him a forever home . . .. all of our pups have been rescued and I know how hard it is to say good bye to them.
~bluepoppy
It is so hard to lose our sweet animal companions. They are great teachers of our hearts. I lost my Alex Girlie at the end of June and there are days when I still look for her. Funny. About a week after she passed away someone said to me, "There is an opening now for someone to fill the void she's created." You met your husband. I'm still waiting. Thanks so much for this. I'm sending a little prayer to Trav in doggie heaven tonight.
I love the lesson at the end of this, the letting go of a butterfly of a dream, only to have it come land on you, quietly and unexpected. These entries make me so aware of the details in my surroundings, and I'm so grateful to you for that. I'm sorry for the loss of Traveler, but I know he too, was so endlessly grateful to have you in his life...just as I am.
how hard for you
and what moving words...
and lucky to be
rescued...
:)
Great post - so sorrt for your loss. I love goldens - I have two of them right now, Chance and Roxie, both from "broken homes", and want to own a whole ranch full of them so I can raise them and give them away as service dogs and do retriever rescues.
Wonderful, wonderful dogs...Traveler looks just like my Roxie girl, who already has her mask...
Girl you just know how to say it...
It is only when you let go of controlling the dream that you can be quiet enough to see it when it crosses your path.
What an amazing statement. A great thought and sentiment. And so stinking true. I am trying to be inspired for a writing assignment and without fail you have provided. Thank you!
On a side note...are you from Indiana? If so that is so rocking cool! You can email me if you wish
eich134@earthlink.net. I thought you said in a comment something else about Indiana so apparently you do live here or have.
Sentimental (Shannon)
http://sentimentalbutcrazy.typepad.com/mommas_on_the_edge/
Oh what a lovely story. Thank you for sharing this memory. xo
I love to read your sensory perception work. Thanks for sharing your memories of Traveler. How special that connection was - love and joy moving so intensely in both directions.
I miss my own fur babies very much
and one day will have others. I know that loss so well. My precious sheltie lived with me almost 18 years and her "brother," the enticing terrier lived 15. I must write about them soon.
I want some of the rich, chocolate ice cream, my first memory of taste! I was 3 and hospitalized post my tonsilectomy. That was the food they gave me for my sore throat!