Don't Forget The Angels

I had forgotten the angels.

The past few weeks have proven to be somewhat difficult for my family as we deal with the illnesses of our dog, Frankie, and the different opinions about how we should treat her. This is not a unique story. Many of my friends are living it with their parents, and I suspect that to be much worse. Frankie has become chronic, and the emotional and financial toll this is taking on me is substantial. The other morning, when she puked on the kitchen floor again, leading to yet another hospital visit, I thought I would lose my mind. Instead I remembered the angels.

The eternal presence of these celestial beings got pushed to the back of my mind by worry and the details of our complicated world of man-made medicine…prescription drugs and specialty foods, tests and imaging, surgery, each of them coming with its own set of decisions. Somewhere during the weeks of Frankie’s alternating hospital stays and home care, my state of mind shifted from compassionate caregiver to empathic distress “victim,” which propelled me way out of alignment.

The angels appeared first as visions when I needed them the most…tall, glow-in-the-dark, haloed and winged images, looking just as my guardian angel did when she first came to me when I was a child. There were the Earth angels in human form as well, offering kind deeds and prayers for our sweet Frankie. They also came in the form of close friends and family members recognizing the benefit of human connection and willing to put Covid restrictions aside, bringing meals and staying over to assist. The angel I need the most for Frankie is the Angel of Healing. The ones I need more for myself are the angels of Faith and Peace. I believe that when we need angels, we must summon them verbally and audibly. So this morning I did just that. At first it was a bit awkward, speaking out loud in my living room, but soon it seemed natural, bringing release of necessary healing tears when I felt those angels listening and responding. As always happens, when I intentionally call on them for assistance, the more I continue communication with them, the more I physically feel their wings wrapped around me. Picture the warmest (sunshine, not furnace-induced) hugging healing pressure around your body and multiply that by one hundred.

I don’t quite know what to make of all of Frankie’s ailments or try to understand the reason there are so many when she is so young, but if I don’t celebrate her miracle moments and the days when she wants to briefly play and sit in the sunshine, I fail her. It’s such a lesson as to why we are all here to grasp the good times, the premise of every tear jerking inspirational story. Angels help me to step out of that place of fear and thoughts of Frankie’s demise into a space of love where I can treat her compassionately whether she happens to be lethargic or energetic. It is how I respond to that moment that matters. I am able to offer hugs and my presence during that lethargy and my enthusiasm and returned playfulness in that energetic time. And then I am able to remember that since she came into my life a few short years ago, she has been a four legged angel to me.


From the Sanctuary:

It’s birds mostly here in the “dead of the winter”. I’ve never really liked that expression because winter is alive with energy, prepping Earth with the surge needed for the intense regrowth of spring. On one sunny relatively warm day last week I bundled up and took Frankie outside for some much needed sniffing for both of us. A murmur of starlings entertained us for several minutes, and giant crows jutted back and forth in the bare trees. Canada geese dotted the blue sky with their V formations, and the deer crossed the yard in search of a morsel or two.

While facing the window during my workout the other day, I noticed not one or two but three hawks swooping into my yard in line with one another, sending me a message that motion is indeed a good thing, even if it is with resistance bands. Smiles!

Today we are having a Lake Effect snowstorm. Whiteout conditions have been prevalent outside all day, obstructing my view of the pines across the street. Occasionally the town plows travel by, doing their best to clear the roads for those brave souls who choose to venture out (or those who seek the fun the snow provides and don’t feel the cold, experiencing only the thrill of the slopes). I, like many, prefer to witness Mother Nature’s gift from indoors during the cold months. I am content to be safe, warm and enthralled by her white beauty that stills us into silence. As I admire the falling flakes, I can’t help but think, perhaps I will go out into the back yard, lie down and create a snow angel.

Don’t forget the angels! Love, Mary