We lay on the soft pillows of the chaise, my four-legged guardians and I, perched upon the second-floor porch as the sun was slowly making its way across the horizon, not yet behind the newly budding trees. Their long shadows cast themselves through the flowering pear tree and its maple tree companion, laying themselves across the practically glowing emerald green grass. A chorus of birds filled the air around me.
I took in all of this magic, lost for a time in its spell, mindlessly stroking the soft fur of my pup Ralph, so silky it stirred a memory. I’d always been enamored by Steve’s hair which had that same silky texture, so fine, yet so playfully curly like a baby’s first grown length of hair. So much alike in that same silky way.
I was drawn back to his last hours, as he lay beside me in the bed. I could hear his slow yet shallow breathing, in…….. out…….. in…….. out…….. in…….. out……..
The oxygen generator was tucked away in the next room so as not to disturb us. In the bedroom, his breathing led us in a slow even rhythm, yet barely audible, while the music played softly in the background from the list I’d chosen of his favorite tunes.
in…….. out…….. in…….. out…….. in…….. out……..
It was meditative in the most compelling way, like a swaying of the body that feels like we’re not alone, but part of a greater living breathing being, slow dancing with the rotation of the earth.
In the past I have found myself fully embraced in the harmonic moments of similar slow and gentle rhythms. Such was the case when I found myself floating above a coral bommie in the South Pacific, caught in a flowing dance with schools of fish. All the colors of the rainbow, gently swayed with me in the glimmering of life-giving sunlight beaming down from above, yet spread like angel’s wings around us.
in…….. out…….. in…….. out…….. in…….. out……..
Back in the bedroom, I hear the stutter, the slowing pace of his breath. The time is near and I keep my own breath flowing as I listened for his last one.
in…….……… out………..……..…..
The music ended, too, the last song, “Shake it Up, Baby” by the Beatles…..
I looked over at him to confirm. “You dawg”, I said to his now silent body. A little laugh bubbled up inside at the awesome irony of his departing message.
Yet tonight, the cool air now touches me from the setting sun. Ralph, my silken windhound, provides the silky touch of a memory. I remind myself to smile again.
Mara Jevera Fulmer's Blog 