By a great mercy, the close of the Shiva mourning period for Fangie coincided with the once-monthly meeting of a group of friends who practice Nonviolent Communication. So these stalwart like-minded souls helped me say goodbye to my dear little boy.
And blog-friend Lahgitana, of Rockin’ The Purple!, could not be here in person, but she baked cookies for event. Lemon cookies. She sent them by e-mail. The e-mail got here just in time for sunset, just as I checked one last time before the meeting.
Here is a picture.
Don’t they look good? Were they good, Lahggie?
And what a send-off it was. Last post I spoke of how much, after suffering this shattering loss, I wanted to keep the spirit with me. I wanted to turn my back on nothing. I wanted to stay present, to stay breathing, even while looking the most awful squarely in the face.
My friends truly rose to the occasion. Told tales of the ridiculous turned into the sublime, of moments in life that changed everything utterly, of moments when time stood still.
I am so grateful for the presence of these friends, of all you, of all beings who understand what this pain has been like. For the company of those who know what it is to feel life – even if it feels at times like being hit by a bus.
For the company of those who know what love is.
Voi, che sapete che cosa e amor.
To paraphrase Mozart : Let me tell you what I’m going through, you who know what love is. Now is pleasure, now is agony.
And after our circle closed on the telling of love, we enshrined Fangie’s favorite bed high on a shelf, in my friend’s lovely home. Out of reach of her own valiant survivor Little Guy, who wouldn’t be tempted to pee in it.
It looks very jazzy up there. Festive.
Here’s Fangie in that bed, as he began his last illness.
Rest easy my little dear one. Zichrono l’bracha.