Four mornings have gone past…The grey dawn light has missed that tiny golden bundle of Luchi curled up on my pillow. It also missed watching me wake up and run out for the morning walk. Instead, it would see a gently snoring mass of black curls beside a gently snoring heap of me.
Sleep comes late these evenings. The house transforms into a quiet, dim cave of loss in which sparks of Luchi and her memories glow at different corners. Her stool, the tray of toys, her food bowl, her leash…all still, all waiting, all there. I have yet to look at her videos and photographs which are stuffed into my mobile and laptop. The grief is still fresh and frothing below the surface of calm composure spread over my face.
Mixed and tossed with that grief, are all these diced bits of gratitude, the dressing of loving support, and the spices of memories and life choices. In the past four days, ever since that evening when Luchi was snatched from us, we have been visited by concerned friends, watched over phone and social media, consoled and listened to, helped and fed by so many loved ones.
That evening, Hema ran the entire 3 kms from her village as soon as we gave her the news. She made us tea and some food, insisted that we eat something, cleared up the house, and hugged and cried with us. Dr Ramesh and Brinda, our first-line supp0rt system/ friends and nourishers/ laughter and movie sharers/ foster parents and firm friends, came immediately to just sit with us. They have been coming over daily, talking about Luchi and lunches and long walks and everything which comes up during conversation.
Facebook friends, long distance friends, nieces and aunts, sisters and colleagues….there has been support and love from them all. I have spent long hours talking and talking about Luchi, about why did she come to us for such a short time, about the consistently tough challenges which come along, about Luchi, about us.
All that repeated sharing, all the shared tears, all the tearful laughter–it has helped me to grieve unashamedly, comforted me when I felt broken, pushed me into continuing with the routine of life, pointed out the unfathomable truths of life spans and destiny and karma, and made me choose those thoughts of comfort which suit me best.
I have chosen to believe that little Luchi was a blessed soul, who needed a quick life as a dog, to continue her journey. Since she had already earned a lot of Good Karma, the Good Lord scratched His Head and thought, “where should I send this lovely soul for the great time she has earned, even as a dog? Ah haa, Mala seems to be a good option!”. Luchi was sent to us for her 80 days of love, love and more love. As soon as her quota was complete, she departed, without pain or suffering, to continue on her joyous way.
We did our bit….we loved her, shared her life and pictures with the world, made her happy and made readers smile. In return, we got joy, love, waggy tail adoration, nasty face bites, nibbles and puddles of piddle aplenty! That’s a lot to get from a tiny bundle of golden fur and floppy ears and sharp teeth!
We also got the support and solace of so many loved ones, we also got to count our blessings and miracles–the facts of life which we take so often for granted.
Thank you, each and everyone of you, who has comforted and consoled and shared their thoughts/memories/ears with me.
Dearest Malu, Another masterly portrayal pf your literary genius. Powerful capture of passing moments, moments of grief, hard to endure… May you never fall short of friends and friendship. Loving, Chittu