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Sharing My Life, Means…

Sharing My Life, Means

Sharing my life means, I’m going to share some personal things at times. That’s the only way this feature is going to be any good. Right?

I watch A LOT of movies….like waaaaay to much. I’ll tell you why….I’m getting into “directing”. I watch movies to see the art and work that I think exists behind it.

Anyway, to the point of this post. I had a movie called ” Countryman Charlie” on in the background. In one of the first scenes, Shia LeBeouf has to make the tough decision of taking his mother off of “Life Support.” Within minutes, he saw the spirit of his mother. He talked to her. Before he said goodbye, he asked his mother to please give him a better ” last memory” of her, because the thing etched in his mind was carrying her very sick body into the hospital.

This instantly took me back to a painful place. As many of you know, my child of 11 years died in my arms. I know, to many of you, she was just a dog, but not to me. Tessa was my puppy that grew into a huge part of my life. She was in my lap everyday and she looked into my eyes every day and said without words, “I love you Mom.”

One day, her little brother ran to me barking like something was wrong. I followed him and saw Tessa on the ground and could tell, like her brother Dexter, she was in trouble. I ran with her in my arms to the car. It was a race against the clock and something in me told me, I was going to lose. ย Time stopped as I sped through the city. Nothing else existed. I couldn’t hear traffic. I have no recollection of any stop lights or roadways….just her in the front seat about to let go of life. Suddenly, her chest started expanding, as if she were taking in all the air she could, yet her face had was still and had no expression. I was in hysteria. I started to punch her chest as I screamed at her, ” No Tessa! No!” It’s like I hoped she would listen to my demand not to die. I knew she died right there. Although I went through the motions of running her into the animal E.R. and although they performed C.P.R., I knew right where she let go.

Now when I drive by that place, I still hurt. The movie made me wish the same….that I could have a prettier moment than that one. I still feel bad that I punched her and yelled at her. I hope, with all of the part of my heart that is still broken, that she will forgive me for treating her that way in the last seconds of her life.

#This Is My Life.

I want you to share. Do you have a similar experience, where you wish you could change the last memory you have? Share it. Share any thoughts that relate. Your comments are my therapy.

If you want to read what happened to Tessa, you can read the details over here.