Discovery

As we laid Pard to rest under the lilac tree in January, I was filled with a heartache that is still, even five months later, indescribable to me. With all the tenderness in the world, Scott dug the hole, crawled into it and laid Pard's body in the ground. Facing West in true cowdog tradition, I had written in the Pard Letters. I watched that part, and turned away before the backhoe could move the earth to cover him over. That is one thing I could not witness, and for that, I asked Pard to forgive my aching soul. Tears still quickly slip from my eyes as I write this, as they have done many, many times since that day. I still tell P goodnight, I still touch his collar left on my beside cabinet. I miss him every day. But since his passing, and through the healing process that is beginning, something magical (for lack of a better word) is happening in our home.

It started with the change in the energy of our home. A slight shift at first, then growing and changing. On Easter Sunday, Scott was confirmed an Elder. Which in our little world means he now holds the Melchizedek priesthood, which is something we have never had in either home since we were about 12 and 10, respectively. The beginning changes were small, but people in our ward were noticing. They came up quietly and told me they could see the light in his face, the change in his countenance. They saw how happy I was, how happy we were, and told us what they saw. Inside our home, spiritually, things ar changing for us in amazing ways, but it is subtle, still and gentle.

Outside our home, things are changing as well. Next to the darker lilac tree, the lighter-colored lilac bush in our backyard has never bloomed more than maybe three blossoms at best in the nine years we have lived in our home. This year it has fully blossomed. It is beautiful and the whole landscape is breathtaking to us. I take so much joy in listening to the birds singing, the owl hooting, the chickens talking to each other. Scott brought in more dirt to extend the garden, and we planted it as a family the other day. Something small, but something we have never done together, in harmony and with laughter sprinkled in with the seeds that were laid in the ground. Perhaps it's just my view on things, but the grass almost sparkles, it's so bright and fresh. The flowers offer so much color and I can't wait to see what the rose tree will look like when she's fully in bloom. The tramp is just crying for a warm night, so we can sleep on it and the firepit waits for marshmallows and starburst candy. The whole thing just begs for friends and family, barbecues and night games and memories to be made.

The beauty of back garden takes away some of the pain I feel now, when I look at the bare spot where my beloved dog now lies. I think of his body, not in repose like I did before, but now nourishing the ground, filling our garden with a special magic that is spreading to the inside and outside of our little home. I am so grateful for the love and protection Pard showed our family when he was here, and am so thankful for the same, yet different, kind of love and protection that continues on afterward. His little body may be gone, but the strength of his spirit lives here.....from the living room where he spent so much time, to his resting place outside. Pard is here, and I am ever-thankful that my eyes and heart are open to see and feel this. As I sat down to write this, moved to do so quickly, which happens when I write, I realized upon finishing that it was five months ago today that we said goodbye for now. For this is how the Lord works, in His most mysterious ways. How lucky we are to realize this now....to learn such a lesson from loss, experience peace and witness the sheer joy of discovery.