Monthly Archives: February 2013

Souvenir

 

 

 SWEETPEA

April 20, 1999 – January 26, 2013

SweetPea

 

Change happens so fast sometimes.  You think you’re all prepared for the day, the week, even the month, and then change turns the world upside down.

We learned from the Veterinarian just a few weeks ago that SweetPea had a large mass in her abdomen. Medications were no longer making her comfortable. Each day she became more fatigued and her pain became more intense. It was time to let her go. And so we did.

SweetPea's view
SweetPea’s view

 

 

 

Ken came home from Portugal and we buried her together in a quiet spot in the forest with a beautiful view of Mont Sainte-Victoire. Some days I can lean out our apartment window and see almost the same view, only from a bit farther away. It’s comforting to know she is there in the forest, where pine saplings surround her little grave, and great oak, pine, and birch trees create a sanctuary. When it’s time for us to return to California, SweetPea will hold our place in Provence for memories (our souvenirs) of our days together here. 

 

John & Darlene on the Cours Mirabeau
John & Darlene on the Cours Mirabeau

Ken’s brother John and his wife Darlene drove back from Portugal with Ken to find Aix in the midst of a cold spell. And the cold continues. The Cours Mirabeau is dressed up to celebrate the designation of Aix-Marseille as the Cultural Capitial of France for 2013. The trees on Cours Mirabeau are wrapped in a fabric design created by a Japanese artist who was inspired by Andy Warhol. Oh well . . . It really is quite festive.There are lots of wonderful events related to this celebration all year long, including opera, dance, theatre and street art.

Ken goes out to play golf even in 100 kmph winds and rain.  He is now part of a men’s golf team at a local golf course and is signed up for tournaments with them. Portugal provided a good experience in managing the stress of intense competition. Although he didn’t win a place on the Senior Tour, he had an amazing experience, especially with brother John as his caddy. The weather in Portugal that week was cold and windy.

These wintry days I stay close to home, attend class at IS-Aix language school three days a week, and yearn for warmer weather. The moodiness of the weather has reflected my grieving. I wrote a note to myself the other day trying to describe how my body insists on remembering that SweetPea has died even when my thoughts and feelings want to forget . . .

The authority of reason says: “move along, now, there’s nothing to see here, nothing to be done.”  But my body insists: this is the moment, this is the hour and the day to be marked and noticed. It is recorded in each cell; a great surge, an upwelling of tides of tears and all the watery substance of my being bears witness to remembering, resists forgetting.

And so the few hours between 11am and 2pm, the time when SweetPea died and the hours when we buried her, are filled each day with the sensation of loss, of something missing, of a sadness that surprises me each time it passes by. Every day has a new rhythm. SweetPea is safe in her own place now, and we can roam freely about exploring new cities and towns and countryside without worrying about her schedule and needs. It’s all new. Both Ken and I have had dogs in our lives continuously for the past 20 years.

In the past two weeks we’ve explored Marseille, only a half hour away for the first time since coming to Aix, and yesterday we visited Avignon, just an hour away. We walked the the great halls and the ramparts of the Palais des Papes.  The cold makes for quick steps in sightseeing, especially in the frigid stone palaces and basilicas built in medieval times.  Unfortunately, my computer isn’t allowing any more pictures to be uploaded tonight into this message or I would have shared some fun photos of Marseille.

Perhaps that’s a signal that it’s time to wish you a good night. Keep your notes and good wishes coming our way.  We love hearing from you.

Happy Valentines Day to you!