Unleash Me Let Me Go. It's Part of Our Healing. Yours & Mine.

Q: Dear Jack. You talk about letting them go. Not binding them to you with the grief. How do you know when you have cut the leash so that they can run free and have fun? 

A: When you are no longer clinging to them.

Q: How do you know when you are no longer clinging to them?

A: You are no longer clinging to them when you no longer have pain over them. When you no longer allow yourself to suffer. When you have peace and you can smile when you think of them. When you have accepted that they are now living in another dimension, but living nonetheless. You can still miss them, you can still have tender tears, but it's the pain and suffering about it that must be severed from your being. The pain and the suffering weave together to create the leash that binds. 

Don't Be In A Hurry. It Takes Time to Heal.

There is a period of one to two earth years that humans are to refrain from making big decisions. It’s because you don’t always make the best decisions when you are grieving. Those who make decisions in haste often live to regret them. You must move through the time of suffering, strengthening your faith and being willing to grow through the grief in order to be able to see things differently. As you grow, your blind faith will continue to open your eyes. You will see everything in a whole new light when you come out the other side of grief. 

Then you will be able to make very good decisions for yourself, better than ever, because of what you learned.

"Jack McAfghan: Return from Rainbow Bridge"

The Only Way to Fail When You Have Loved a Pet

Grady and I were walking one rainy evening up one of the main streets in our town... just off the Main Street.  As we reached the place we usually crossed to take the road to the village school, a moment was captured in time. If only we could turn it back and rewind. 

Grady and I waited at the edge of the street. As we were looking both ways before crossing, we heard a voice across the street call, "Widgie!" Widgie!"  The woman was calling for her dog; a beautiful Bernese Mountain Dog. The dog was running towards the street. Fast. Towards us. It had seen Grady and I guess it was rushing out to say hello to her.  It had no clue that a car was coming from Main Street. The car was not going fast; perhaps 25 mph. The roads were slippery from the rain. The dog kept running. It all seemed in slow motion. I can count on one hand how many times I have screamed in my life, but deep out of my gut came a loud involuntary scream. The collision was inevitable.

After the impact, the dog picked itself off the road and dragged itself into the nearby bushes.  We ran over, as did the owners, and we were with it until it lay lifeless... it just took a few moments. I thought it was interesting at the time that as soon as Widgie's spirit left, Grady turned and was ready to leave too. She knew his spirit had left his body, while Widgie's family clung to him and draped themselves over him crying --- like most humans do when the final moment comes. 

There was something about the incident. I felt responsible. Jack says in his book, if he could have any wish, he would always be in the right place at the right time.  I couldn't help but think If Only! If only Grady and I hadn't been walking at that time at that place! If only we had gone the other way towards the park instead of this way towards the school.  I felt to blame.  

I took a bouquet of flowers to the people the next day. They were very appreciative. With tear-filled eyes they told me "We should have gone through obedience training; then he would have come when we called."  "We should have built a fence; he never would have been near the street."  Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda. We all do it.  The following week they were building a stockade fence. A few months later they had another dog, a Bernese also, and they were getting ready to start Obedience Training classes.  They had learned the important lesson that the loving Widgie had come to teach. 

We can get stuck on the guilt forever if we allow it to take over our minds.  Or we can learn from it and do better next time. This is what life is all about. Life is the school, love is the lesson.  We learn from every pet that comes to us what to do next time.  Eventually, if we have enough "teachers" and we are willing to learn from our circumstances, we will get it right. It will come as second nature. 

Widgie crossed Rainbow Bridge satisfied, knowing that he had fulfilled his promise. Like all other pets, he came into this life to teach. His loving "students" learned from the love of him...and the loss of him.  This is why pets don't live so long. We need enough sessions with them to get it right.  They live just long enough for us to live our lives with them and get it right.  It's all by Design and so are the circumstances.  I learned too. That's why I'm here on this blog and that's why I wrote "Jack McAfghan: Reflections on Life with my Master", to share what I've learned from Jack and from Grady. And from Widgie.

It's not our fault, it's just life.  We only fail if we fail to learn.

I Am Not Far Away At All

You think that I am far from you? 

I feel your thoughts, I know your heart.

I am not far away at all. I'm closer than you would believe! 

You think if you stop grieving that you will somehow lose me. 

You're afraid that if you love again, 

That you will grow away from me. 

Well you're not going anywhere! 

Your soul has grown right into mine

Spun together; 

A tapestry 

Of our life and love.

You cannot lose what has become

A vital part of you.

Someday you'll see that I was with you all along the way. 

You'll then regret the time you spent

Wasting many thoughtful tears

And grieving for so many years!

But while you cannot see that now,

You'll find out what you think you lost 

You never lost at all.

I am merely gone from view.

I am here; 

I am here beside you.

Waiting for the Chosen Time

When you will see and touch and feel me 

As I run into your arms again. 

~Jack~

Letting Go Doesn't Come Naturally

All human beings struggle with letting go. You come into this world clinging to nothing and then all of sudden, Daddy's index finger hovers in front of you and you find it and curl your fingers around his. He shakes it to find that you won't let go. It is human nature that makes you do this and, look, already you are human! You learn clinging in your first moments in this brand new world. It is one of the first things you learn -- to find your mother's breast and to cling to Daddy's finger.

You gather childhood things and you turn into an adult who seeks out adult things and experiences. Time passes. Your beloved pets come and go. Your children leave an empty nest. You watch your marathon time get slower as you move into the Master's Division. Over time maybe your eyes, your ears, your taste buds go. One by one the people you love get older and leave. Each one teaches you another lesson in letting go. 

Do you see that your perennial life is designed to shift like the seasons; for everything to come and go? You are supposed to grow through the comings; through the goings. This is one of the reasons us dogs don't live as long as you do. We are gifts for you not only because we love you but because every time you say goodbye, you grow. 

It's all by Design. You will leave this planet too. By the time you do, you hopefully have learned what you need to learn. Your load is light and you are ready to fly. That final trip over the Rainbow, into Heaven or Paradise (however you define the afterlife) is what it's all about. 

Life is the school; love is the lesson.