Had a good conversation, and a healing session, with a dear friend yesterday.
Dear Friend [DF] : It seems that you have an unresolved grief. I would classify it as 'guilt'. Do you want to talk about it?
Me : I am very much aware of what is happening. It has become an internal struggle. I am threading on a thin line between letting go and holding on to her memories.
DF : What have you let go? Just listening to you, it dawns on me that you are stuck with the events on her last day. You beat yourselves up for all the things you had done what you did. But we cannot bring her back. We cannot change what you did or did not do.
What we can do is to stop hurting ourselves. Each of us, in our own way, did what we thought was right at the time, using what we knew and felt. Each of us tried to do the best we could, and did it with the intention of love. We are human beings, with frailties and faults. We don't know everything. We make mistakes. But we make them with the best of intentions. I am sure you did exactly that too.
To hurt yourself with the terrible additional pain of guilt is to do dis-service to the love you have for Ruby. She is gone and out of pain. Be fair to who you are now.
Me : Somehow, thinking about her last day makes me sad. Not so much of guilt but the chord of awareness between us that took place. The divinity at work.
DF : When we didn't know enough, or made an innocent mistake, do we believe that she did not understand? And love and forgive you in spite of it? I believe she does and that what dogs do.
You need to forgive yourself. You need to quit blaming yourself for being a caregiver. For being human. Know that Ruby does not blame you. She understands because she knows your heart.
Let's go through that last day. Make it accountable. That's the only way you can let it go. I am not going to judge but I am here to provide lessons for you, for us, to keep learning. Every pebble of knowledge will ripple.
****************************************************
As suggested by a dear friend that I should journalise the event, and here it goes:
The Day As It Happened
- without rational process
That morning, I woke up with a heavy heart. In fact, I would always feel down whenever Ruby was not feeling well. Whenever she would be restless and not her normal self. I would always have the thought that her heart or liver, or even her blood count, would be 'in danger'. Her last medical check-up, on 14th February, didn't show a good sign. She was not in any health danger but we were warned, by the Vet, to monitor her closely and to see for vital signs of organs failing.
When F left the house that morning, Ruby was not whining. She was not even strong enough to stand up and get off the bed. She was fine the day before. But that morning, she was rather weak. Somewhat restless. Ruby would always whine or make some noise everytime F was about to leave the house. I carried her and we both sent F off to work.
I put her back on the bed, stroked to comfort her and went on to do my morning routine. I expected her to come to find me in the kitchen, which she would normally do whenever I left her too long alone in the bedroom. Where she would either just come to see what I would be doing and walked back to the bedroom or the balcony. Or she would be sitting around if she wanted to eat something.
Somehow that morning, I had a deja vu. I had the exact feeling of my late dad. I decided to check on her. There she was, laid restlessly on the bed, only opening her eyes to look at me. My heart sank.
Resting on the bed, I gave her Reiki treatment. She would normally respond well. After about half an hour, I let her rest and tried to force myself to do my stuffs. But somehow, I felt like doing nothing. I spent the rest of the day lying with her. Stroking and petting her and never stopped to give Reiki. She was too weak for anything. Not even able to drink nor eat.
That day, I decided not to give her the medicines. I struggled with the decision because the meds were important to her. But somehow, I just could not do it. I knew she would be struggling to swallow them even if I forced it. I just didn't feel it was a right thing to do that day.
F called in the afternoon telling me that he had made an appointment with the Vet for Saturday. Somehow, he just knew. Somehow, instinctively, he knew we needed to bring Ruby to the Vet. We felt Ruby would be better after a day of inactivity and Saturday would not make that much difference. I then told him that Ruby had not even been out of the bed since that morning.
Tried to spoonfeed her some water few times. She could only lift up her head but didn't drink even though I felt she wanted to. I was at my low as time passed.
Looking at her struggling to stand up made it worst for me. She tried to go to the toilet. That broke my heart actually. Slowly, she managed to do it but it took her a long while. She had to stop few times, probably, to find more strength before continuing to the paper for her business. I felt terribly sad just looking at her, at how she struggled, and not knowing what would be the right thing to do. I felt she was doing her best, wanting to do the right thing. It looked like she was in great pain and fighting it off.
I carried her around the house. Took her to the kitchen hoping that she would have appetite to eat. She was not in the mood. Perhaps, she was feeling too weak to eat anything. Back in my arms, she gave a little struggle when I was carrying her at the window. She loved looking out but not that afternoon.
I carried her back to the bed. That afternoon when I stroked her, and for the first time, I cried. I just could not control anymore. I felt terribly sad. Ruby just looked at me. And for the first time, I told her "Ruby, you are very sick dear. Should you need to go, go peacefully. Don't fight anymore. Don't struggle anymore. We will always love you." Those words just came and I sobbed uncontrollably. There was a sense of guilt afterwards. Yet, I felt it was the right thing to do.
I spent the rest of the day sleeping next to her. When it was time for F to come home, Ruby tried to get out of the bed. I helped her, thinking that she might want to go to the toilet again. Instead, she walked out of the bedroom heading towards the balcony. I felt relieved. At last, she was walking again.
I just looked at her from behind. She managed slow and small steps. I tried getting her to go to the kitchen. For her to eat something. She continued heading to the balcony. She fell as she got there and struggled to stand up. Again, I was hit with sadness and tears just rolled down. There were heaps of sorrow. I felt lost and restless at the same time.
I carried and placed her to the sofa. Stroking and comforting her. My tears just kept rolling down. I tried not to cry. I didn't want to spread my sadness to her. Somehow, something was telling me that she wanted to greet F as he got home. When F got home soon after that, she stood up and sat on her paws. She was too weak to wag but we knew she was happy.
We decided to go to the Vet that evening. Somehow, we felt we could not wait till Saturday. Ruby needed medical attention. Her stomach was bloated.
Ruby was pretty quiet when we told her that we would bring her to the clinic. She would normally bark whenever we were leaving the house, but not this time. Not even struggling when we were in the taxi. She just laid quietly on my laps. We waited for almost an hour before the Vet could attend to her. By then, we had the Clinic Assistant to get the blood test done.
It was only when the Vet was examining her, that we noticed she had turned yellow. We were asked to look out for such sign but it wasn't there earlier. It was jaundice. We had more bad news. Her blood test didn't show good results. The Vet told us that her blood count was extremely low. She was anaemic. And her liver was failing. She needed to be hospitalised. She needed to be given drips. And further test will only be carried out the next morning. We were reluctant to leave her there but the Vet assured us "Ruby will be alright. She will not passed away."
Ruby looked calm when we stroked her before we left. Not even moving. Just staring at us. We told her that we had to leave her there and that we would be back tomorrow. She looked at us as we walked out of the room. Just looking. There was no struggle. There was no whining. It was, somehow, a calm feeling as we bade goodbye. And she just kept looking at us with peace in her eyes.
We cried the minute we were out of the clinic. We felt lost. Somehow, we didn't feel good. We comforted each other echoing the Vet's assurance and just to pray for the best. We planned to visit her the next day, with me going in the afternoon first. I did more distant Reiki that night.
Somehow, at about 4.30 in the morning, I suddenly woke up. There was an uneasy feeling. I felt there was a flash of light. My thoughts were with Ruby. I told F that Ruby was calling. We dismissed any negative thought and continued to pray and went back to sleep.
We planned the day. We hoped for the best. Just after 9 a.m., the Vet called me. My world had shattered. Suddenly, there was a huge tsunami clouding me. My heart broke as he said "I am very sorry ..."
As suggested by a dear friend that I should journalise the event, and here it goes:
The Day As It Happened
- without rational process
That morning, I woke up with a heavy heart. In fact, I would always feel down whenever Ruby was not feeling well. Whenever she would be restless and not her normal self. I would always have the thought that her heart or liver, or even her blood count, would be 'in danger'. Her last medical check-up, on 14th February, didn't show a good sign. She was not in any health danger but we were warned, by the Vet, to monitor her closely and to see for vital signs of organs failing.
When F left the house that morning, Ruby was not whining. She was not even strong enough to stand up and get off the bed. She was fine the day before. But that morning, she was rather weak. Somewhat restless. Ruby would always whine or make some noise everytime F was about to leave the house. I carried her and we both sent F off to work.
I put her back on the bed, stroked to comfort her and went on to do my morning routine. I expected her to come to find me in the kitchen, which she would normally do whenever I left her too long alone in the bedroom. Where she would either just come to see what I would be doing and walked back to the bedroom or the balcony. Or she would be sitting around if she wanted to eat something.
Somehow that morning, I had a deja vu. I had the exact feeling of my late dad. I decided to check on her. There she was, laid restlessly on the bed, only opening her eyes to look at me. My heart sank.
Resting on the bed, I gave her Reiki treatment. She would normally respond well. After about half an hour, I let her rest and tried to force myself to do my stuffs. But somehow, I felt like doing nothing. I spent the rest of the day lying with her. Stroking and petting her and never stopped to give Reiki. She was too weak for anything. Not even able to drink nor eat.
That day, I decided not to give her the medicines. I struggled with the decision because the meds were important to her. But somehow, I just could not do it. I knew she would be struggling to swallow them even if I forced it. I just didn't feel it was a right thing to do that day.
F called in the afternoon telling me that he had made an appointment with the Vet for Saturday. Somehow, he just knew. Somehow, instinctively, he knew we needed to bring Ruby to the Vet. We felt Ruby would be better after a day of inactivity and Saturday would not make that much difference. I then told him that Ruby had not even been out of the bed since that morning.
Tried to spoonfeed her some water few times. She could only lift up her head but didn't drink even though I felt she wanted to. I was at my low as time passed.
Looking at her struggling to stand up made it worst for me. She tried to go to the toilet. That broke my heart actually. Slowly, she managed to do it but it took her a long while. She had to stop few times, probably, to find more strength before continuing to the paper for her business. I felt terribly sad just looking at her, at how she struggled, and not knowing what would be the right thing to do. I felt she was doing her best, wanting to do the right thing. It looked like she was in great pain and fighting it off.
I carried her around the house. Took her to the kitchen hoping that she would have appetite to eat. She was not in the mood. Perhaps, she was feeling too weak to eat anything. Back in my arms, she gave a little struggle when I was carrying her at the window. She loved looking out but not that afternoon.
I carried her back to the bed. That afternoon when I stroked her, and for the first time, I cried. I just could not control anymore. I felt terribly sad. Ruby just looked at me. And for the first time, I told her "Ruby, you are very sick dear. Should you need to go, go peacefully. Don't fight anymore. Don't struggle anymore. We will always love you." Those words just came and I sobbed uncontrollably. There was a sense of guilt afterwards. Yet, I felt it was the right thing to do.
I spent the rest of the day sleeping next to her. When it was time for F to come home, Ruby tried to get out of the bed. I helped her, thinking that she might want to go to the toilet again. Instead, she walked out of the bedroom heading towards the balcony. I felt relieved. At last, she was walking again.
I just looked at her from behind. She managed slow and small steps. I tried getting her to go to the kitchen. For her to eat something. She continued heading to the balcony. She fell as she got there and struggled to stand up. Again, I was hit with sadness and tears just rolled down. There were heaps of sorrow. I felt lost and restless at the same time.
I carried and placed her to the sofa. Stroking and comforting her. My tears just kept rolling down. I tried not to cry. I didn't want to spread my sadness to her. Somehow, something was telling me that she wanted to greet F as he got home. When F got home soon after that, she stood up and sat on her paws. She was too weak to wag but we knew she was happy.
We decided to go to the Vet that evening. Somehow, we felt we could not wait till Saturday. Ruby needed medical attention. Her stomach was bloated.
Ruby was pretty quiet when we told her that we would bring her to the clinic. She would normally bark whenever we were leaving the house, but not this time. Not even struggling when we were in the taxi. She just laid quietly on my laps. We waited for almost an hour before the Vet could attend to her. By then, we had the Clinic Assistant to get the blood test done.
It was only when the Vet was examining her, that we noticed she had turned yellow. We were asked to look out for such sign but it wasn't there earlier. It was jaundice. We had more bad news. Her blood test didn't show good results. The Vet told us that her blood count was extremely low. She was anaemic. And her liver was failing. She needed to be hospitalised. She needed to be given drips. And further test will only be carried out the next morning. We were reluctant to leave her there but the Vet assured us "Ruby will be alright. She will not passed away."
Ruby looked calm when we stroked her before we left. Not even moving. Just staring at us. We told her that we had to leave her there and that we would be back tomorrow. She looked at us as we walked out of the room. Just looking. There was no struggle. There was no whining. It was, somehow, a calm feeling as we bade goodbye. And she just kept looking at us with peace in her eyes.
We cried the minute we were out of the clinic. We felt lost. Somehow, we didn't feel good. We comforted each other echoing the Vet's assurance and just to pray for the best. We planned to visit her the next day, with me going in the afternoon first. I did more distant Reiki that night.
Somehow, at about 4.30 in the morning, I suddenly woke up. There was an uneasy feeling. I felt there was a flash of light. My thoughts were with Ruby. I told F that Ruby was calling. We dismissed any negative thought and continued to pray and went back to sleep.
We planned the day. We hoped for the best. Just after 9 a.m., the Vet called me. My world had shattered. Suddenly, there was a huge tsunami clouding me. My heart broke as he said "I am very sorry ..."
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I offer Reiki Distant Healing