Soul Matters – November 2019

Ten days ago, I was planning on writing the expected piece on “gratitude” for this November edition. And then, the unexpected randomness of Life happened and my companion, Baci (whom you may recall from his recent celebrity appearance in this column) had a disc rupture, leaving his back legs paralyzed.

I spent a two stress-filled days and $5,000 that I don’t have to give him the surgery he required to relieve his pain and give him a fighting chance to walk again. He’s been home a week now, staples down his shaved spine, incontinent, legs dragging behind him as he attempts to be the dog he feels he still is inside. It’s alternately pitiful and, frankly, sort of amusing. I have to carry him from room to room. He howls if I am out of sight. It’s like having a newborn baby again, without the cute outfits.

I think I took this a whole ordeal a lot harder than Baci. He has the blissful blessing of being a dog, which means he lives entirely in the moment. I, on the other hand, am stuck with my humanness, which worries about whether he’ll walk again or go to the bathroom normally, or if I’m doomed to a life of tiny wheelchairs, doggy diapers and a house that smells like a nursing home.

The whole thing makes me pretty sad. But Baci’s not sad. I don’t think so, anyway. And for that, I am grateful. I’m also grateful that he made it through the surgery. I’m grateful I could charge the whole thing and worry about paying it later. (If anyone’s looking for an awesome part-time employee, give me a holler.) I’m grateful for pain medication. And wine. I’m grateful for the friends who called and asked about us, because as all dog owners know, these guys are like our children. They’re not “just dogs.”

I have no idea how this will turn out, but isn’t that always the truth, about everything, always? We never know when random bolts from the blue will strike, and we never really know why they do and we certainly never know if or how it will come out in the wash. Maybe that’s the lesson. Maybe that’s part of the gratitude: to be compelled to take it moment by moment, day by day, diaper by diaper.

Grief and gratitude go hand in hand. Knowing sorrow aligns your heart for gratitude. Being creatures of relativity and contrast, it is only through love that we know grief, and it is only through grief that we really understand gratitude. Grief takes us down to the bone, down to what really matters: kindness and love. I think about this as I carry my friend from room to room, give him his meds, stroke his stapled back. This is my job. To be kind. To love. That’s really it. I’m grateful to Baci for reminding me of this.

Whatever your current circumstances, may your Thanksgiving season be filled with love and gratitude in abundance.

KATE INGRAM is a grief counselor, life transitions coach and award-winning author. When not toting Baci, she is completing her second book, Grief Girl’s Bedside Guide to Grief. Her new Grab & Go Grief Kit is available now at katherineingram.com.