This afternoon I sped home from work, while trying to keep my eyes on the road, and not let them be clouded by tears, knowing I only had about thirty minutes before death would set in. Strangely enough, the song that hit my cd player just then was Wild is the Wind, that very same song that accompanied a friend's funeral a few years back. It's strange how that song has gotten associated with death for me, making me recall not only one, but now two deaths every time I hear it.
I tried to keep it together as best as I could, while I watched my dog breathe out her last breath. She's had a good life, and her death was peaceful, or at least about as peaceful as deaths get. The vet called around the house and really took her time to make it all go as smoothly as possible. There really wasn't much fight left in her though, which in turn made me recall what that rabbi said when my grandmother died. It was something about believing when someone dies near or on her birthday it's a sign of that fulfilment, of a life lived fully and coming to a closure. I've never been overly religious, but that's stayed with me for some reason, and it's given me peace.
We shed our tears and recalled memories. At the same time, there was some sense of relief. relief at having finally made that decision, putting an end to her pain and giving her her dignity. But still, it stings.
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