Doggie Tears

Charlie the dog blog
Doggie Tears
It has been a really tough week for Amber and I. Ambers mama passed away and we have been through so many emotions that we just want to curl up and make it all go away. Life doesn’t happen like that though, and so my tail is lowered as we trudge through the next action. We got the call a couple of days ago that she died in her sleep from the cancer. We cried all day, and no dog bones, treats, or love could make us feel any better about it. The next day we jumped on a plane, United who is unbearable with service, and flew to Utah where we were welcomed by Ambers sister Nancy. After hugs, we packed in our suitcases and Nancy turned up Madonna and started disco dancing in her seat the whole ride to Jessica’s. She was clearly emotional but didn’t know where to put the feelings, so she sang loud the whole ride over. Amber looked out the window at the Utah mountain’s and recognized the beauty in the place mom called home. Family was gathered, stories were remembered and pictures were shown. Amber stared at a blank page of paper and wondered how to pull together a small talk for the funeral. She felt alone. She felt overwhelmed. She felt hurt. She felt a lot. Here is what she came up with about her mother, and this is what was read at the funeral.

Amber for her mother:
There really are no words to express what a loss this is for our family. We love our mother very much, and if you ask any one of her children or grandchildren you will hear that each of us, were her favorite. I have many memories of my mother. My first memory of her is a simple one. I was sitting in the sun watching her wash the dishes. I remember the feeling, more than the details. The feeling was warmth, love, and that of home sweet home. My mother was a hippie at heart, and took me in as her own at a quant little head shop in Dallas Texas. That was where the smell of incense became part of the constant swirl of smells, trips, and adventures our family lived. We traveled a lot and lived in many states, and me, Celeste, and Aimee spent more time than we would like to admit in the backseat of many junker cars as we were always off starting fresh again. We lived in Logan, Utah at a big white house that for me, will always be home. We went to church there and the smell of TABU on her breasts is my most intimate memory. I loved my mothers breasts. They used to be big, and were always the perfect pillow.
My mother would do laundry in an old ragtime washer but our laundry pile never ended. Mother loved combat boots with bright polyester blouses, and would embarrass me when her and daddy would take us to the local mall and play Miss Pac Man for hours and hours. She was hip then, and I didn’t even know it. My mother was young at heart from the time we traveled the carnivals to the day in the hospital she asked all of her children, and grandchildren to dance for her to Madonna as the nurses watched, scratching their heads with wonder.
My mom was a walking contradiction. She liked her children dressed simple, but let us pierce our ears very young and loved big dangly earrings. She taught us modesty, but threw us all in the bathtub together. She taught us about health as she ate cookie dough batter for lunch and we had sour blended dandelions for dinner. She taught us education, but we often were distracted with sledding, ice-skating, and garage sales. She taught me how to “behave damnit” as she made me pick a switch from the apple tree to “learn obedience and discipline” but never kept up with any discipline or schedule. My mother taught me tolerance of all people as she had a lot of trust for those around her. She could have a conversation with a sinner, or a saint, a president or an artist and you would never know that there was a difference between class and taught us that we can do anything we wanted in life. She wanted to live in a mansion, but cuddled with us even during hard times, making us feel safe. My mother loved and appreciated fine art, and we spent many nights watching old slides of Van Gogh and Matisse. My mother was rich, she has a family that loves her.
My mother spent many years chasing different faiths, different groups came in and out of our lives as she was always searching for her own truth. I never understood her need to go to such extremes, but her years were spent praying for guidance. My mother has that now, she now found the truth, and knows more than any of us could possibly know. She taught us to love Heavenly Father, to have our own relationship with our higher power, to have patience, kindness, love, tolerance, and a wild passion for family. She is survived by us, and we will never forget her. She is, and will always be my mother.
The funeral was a waterfall of tears, photographs that made Amber remember so many different things. It was surreal, and more can be shared on it later. Amber had a hard time watching her mother lowered to the ground, and climbed in the hole once the cement top was placed to write one more “ We love you” on top while the truck of dirt sat waiting. Her ragdoll is in the casket with her mother to remember that she is loved, no matter what.
Life is a journey for all of us, and one thing we can’t escape is the end. We have our own belief that life doesn’t stop here, so we are going to listen for birds, bells, music, and watch for hugs, kisses, and love. She will never be forgotten.