Dearest,
How are you holding up?
This morning I write to you with tears in my eyes, sadness, and a grateful heart.
Ginger has left us.
Her tiny furry body could not hold her enormous energy any longer.
Lately, we noticed that she isn’t seeing well and does not always hear when we call her. Then, last week, she developed a fever. We don’t know for sure, but the tests showed inflammation in her blood, and possibly her liver was shutting down. For a week, she deteriorated, preferred not to go out to the fields, then not even to the garden, until she couldn’t even get up to drink.
We were there, including the three members of her four-legged family, whom you have yet to meet. They all joined us only after you, who is I, were already much better.
Please know that she did not suffer.
I realize that I am writing to you at that moment of relief after she and Hatulico, our cat at the time, were found. You are right there, and I remember it as if it were yesterday.
For two days, everyone searched for them. Wondered where they went. They told us, you who is I, still in the hospital, that they were both missing, unintentionally. They knew it would stress us, and it did. But then both Ginger and Hatulico came back home.
I remember the relief you are feeling now and the gratitude.
From that day on, Ginger became the girls’ guard. Without her approval, no one beyond our very close circles could come near them. When I came home, she would circle me constantly. Sat by my side. Watched over all of us.
When I embraced my ability to mediate healing, Ginger joined me in the sessions.
When they were face to face, she was always under the bed. Barking, or moving around, guiding me, and making sure I wouldn’t miss out on the important aspects.
In remote sessions, she sat by my feet. And often, just on casual days, if I did not notice something energetic was going on, she would follow me around and stare directly into my eyes until I got it.
She was a healer on four legs, and I-you, and all of us, were blessed to have her walk with us.
Should I be telling you all of this? Where you are now, you still have many years to walk with her. Embrace every minute with her. Cherish her gifts.
For me, she was. For you, she still is: a present, knowing, powerful, four-legged teacher.
When you return home, and yes, this is part of the next step in your healing journey. Please give Ginger a big hug from me.
Me.
While writing these Notes (I wish) I Wrote to Myself, I found myself bringing the teachings offered by my parenting journey and Near Death Experience into writing. The result is The Promise We Made: Three Universal Soul Promises We Made to Our Children 🙂
