Holy Week begins

Today's title will mean more, or less, to you, depending on who you are. But for who I am, today is the beginning of the saddest, most loving, most beautiful, most hopeful week of the entire year.

And even those of you who don't "believe" in the significance of these celebrations, will still revel in spring's arrival--tentatively here--and buy your kids Easter candy and maybe even go to church for your semi-annual acknowledgment. Our Jewish friends will remember that ancient experience of Passover. Muslims friends will honor Jesus, too. I'm not sure if they have something special happening just now. But I will learn. And the rest will acknowledge the wonders of new life in their own ways.

Here I sit, at home, on Palm Sunday, because of a dog. Prior to nine months ago, I didn't have a dog and I had considerably more money. Now I have less money, more work and worry, and infinitely more fun and joy and affection in my life. But Tessa is ill and the ER clinic isn't sure why. We're awaiting test results. Since it's not an obvious infection, it could be quite serious. And I will walk in the tension between wanting her to live and have a good life (and augment mine) and knowing I have real limitations on what I can spend. Talk about guilt feelings!

Whatever happens, I am so grateful for our time together. She has blessed my life, helped to assuage my loneliness, gotten me to exercise regularly, and made me laugh over and over again. I have given her a nice home, security, love, and playfulness, as well as being responsible about her needs.

I got word this morning that another dog friend of mine died on Friday. She was old and had a very good long life. Her "parents" took her out in the sunshine of their back yard, where a kind vet administered the shot. How lovely; how loving. I go to her home frequently and I will miss her presence. So once more the wonderful words of Mary Oliver return to my mind and heart:

To live in this world,
you must be able to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it against your bones knowing
your life depends on it;
and when the time comes,
to let it go.

May your week be Holy!