I'm singing her song tonight.

Monday.

Begin.

Eight Mondays ago, I participated in something that I'll probably never get over... A lesson was learned... I said 'goodbye' in the most unusual way. It was the kind of moment that you would want back if you knew that the scenario would be different. Honestly, the memory has scarred my heart. I remember wanting one more peaceful look into her eyes... Her heartbeats were awkward and her bravery was confused. Her peace would come sooner than mine. The salt in the tears in my eyes burned my last glance. I wanted her to know it was me. I was the last to tell her it would be okay even though none of what was about to happen was going to be okay. I wanted to be the last one she saw...

We met in 1998. September. She wasn't sure about me. I was unsure about her. Finally, over time and over a Connells song in the wee hours of some random November morning, we accepted each other. Over the years, we bonded in so many different ways. It was a rewarding relationship as it was decided early on that I would end up loving her with so much of my heart. I never saw it coming, but it's likely she knew all along that I would, one day, be jelly in her presence. She was right. Ever have that feeling? I caved early, I suppose. That's just the way it is... She had that kind of effect on people.

It was 9:33am. In a matter of seconds, it was over. The sun was out. The shade in the back was just so. The grass was wet. The air was soft. Softer than usual. A cardinal, a male, stared my way chirping away. Perched on bird bath #2, he looked beautiful. I guessed, but knew, as much... The gloss in my eyes was heavy. I mean, c'mon... We were about to part ways with her. I was scared...

Her name? "Misha." We had no part in what she would be called, but it fit and we're grateful. It is believed that her name stands for "Gift from God." I'd thank him, but we're not on speaking terms. Mixed pride.

I'll never forget her... Her face. Her fuzzy paws. Her whiskers... Oh, the few she had left... She just wasn't the same towards the end. Life was slowly slipping away from her and she fought and she fought and she fought. In that fight, she taught me a lesson. She fought through the cancer like Rocky Balboa did with Apollo Creed. She didn't know how to give up. No surrender. No awareness of the inevitability of death. No fear. Never letting the pain show... Enduring it all. It was remarkable to witness. I'll say this... Misha lived with so much grace and even at the end, she passed with the dignity of a queen.

Early on, it was decided that this angel was born on St. Patrick's Day. 1991. Just because. And on the 24th of August, she gave us her last heartbeat... It was "goodbye, forever."

It was hard. Hell, it's still hard.

As responsible owners, we had to make the call. Our hands were tied. Up against a wall, you have to make choices. At times, you have to take yourself out of the equation. Bravely, we had to assess the situation for it was... Her eyes said so much... She needed rest and she needed her peace. She needed something more. She needed solutions that we simply couldn't give her. She loved us and trusted us. To make decisions on her behalf. To put her peace before our own. The trust that we loved her as unselfishly as she loved us. We came to this conclusion a few days before it all went down. The weekend was tough as we made (what we thought were) the right mental arrangements. It was a numbing weekend and it was confusing to know that it was all coming down to this... One decision for her, for us. From us. However, during those last days, we worked through the usual routine that she was on to keep her comfortable. As comfortable as we hoped she was... All the way up until the end. Knowing that everything we were doing would be the last time.........

There was not going to be another "today, we press on" day. We marched through each stage and we did our best. I did my best. I know I did my best. I know she did her best. We embraced each step along the way. The highs, the lows, the in-betweens... Everything. To the end.

What a year.

bsm*