Last Saturday, March 2nd, marked the sixth year of the passing of my sister, Manette. But for some reason I’d “forgotten” her angelversary and that intended post in her memory did not get written. The anniversary of her service was March 6th so I’ve thought a lot about her this past week.
Then just two weeks ago, after I’d written an obituary for my mother and had sent it to the funeral director, I’d realized another lapse of memory. After receiving the first draft of the obituary, the funeral director called and asked if we could use other words for deceased as it appeared so often in the “Survived by” section. I had actually noticed that, too, but was too weary to edit.
With my “okay” and some gentle rewording, he’d published it on the Funeral Home site. But later, sometime in the middle of the night, I’d awokened with a start. I realized that in all the focus on recent losses, I’d forgotten to include the passing of my sister, and of my youngest brother, Matt, who’d passed in 2015!
I was mortified and swiftly issued another e-mail to the funeral director with a, “But wait, there’s more,” directive asking him to update. I can only imagine his expression. In the morning, when I shared this omission with other family members (and co-editors) we had a much-needed good family laugh.
I think that maybe it was my sister who shook me from my sleep to gently remind me and to spare me future anquish when it would eventually be noticed by many. “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” she was likely relaying.
Grief can play memory tricks on the mind. Our timelines begin to blur to soften the the sad reality of loss. With this incident, the phrase, “How could I be forgetting?” came to mind. I recalled that this was the title of a poem and essay collection written by the late Ben Hur Lampman an Oregon-based journalist, essayist and poet who in 1926 published a collection of his works in a volume titled, How Could I be Forgetting that included his famous essay “Where to bury a Dog”. I often share this poignant piece with friends and colleagues who’ve lost a special four-legged friend and think its spirit can be applied to any loss.
Although my sister loved horses, she also had a soft spot for dogs and was the devoted co-guardian of a rescued pit bull named Styles that recently passed after a good long life. Today I pay a tribute to her spirit and share an excerpt from that Lampan essay that orignally appeared in the Oregonian on September, 11, 1925.
Where to Bury a Dog
“Beneath a cherry tree, or an apple, or any flowering shrub of the garden, is an excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer, or gnawed at a flavorous bone, or lifted head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death…The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of its master.”
To read this beautiful essay in its entirety please visit:
Our Rescue Pup, Jackson, continues to grow and is extremely alert and lively thanks to the hard work and dedication of the Animal Rescue Konsortium of Crescent City, Florida. In my sister’s memory, please make an effort, no matter how “small”, to improve the lives of the dogs, and other animals in need, in your own community. Have a great week ahead and Keep the Faith.
