Monday morning a call came from the daughter of a woman I used to work with years ago at Kohl’s. Her name is Dorothy. She was like a grandma to me. Dorothy could be a tough cookie, but that is what I liked about her. I also enjoyed looking for, and bringing out, her softer side. We all have a softer side. Sometimes we let the stresses of life and things that have happened to us create a hard outer shell. But I knew there was a kind, sweet Dorothy underneath. And I found it.
When Dorothy retired it was like saying goodbye to a grandma I got to see everyday when we worked together. I could not let go and continued my friendship with her after she retired. At first I would visit her now and then after work when I lived nearby. Then as life goes I moved further away. But we still kept in touch with a yearly card and letter at Christmas time.
This year I sent my card and it was shorter than usual as I was very caught up in the busyness of my life. Christmas was nearing and still no card from Dorothy. I began to worry. I went shopping at Kohl’s about a week before Christmas. I ran into Linda who I also worked with years before and she told me Dorothy was not doing well.
Then the call came this past Monday. Dorothy was dieing and at the Sharon Richardson Hospice Center. Her daughter told me Dorothy had my card and letters from me which were always there on her end table, never put away or thrown out. She said Dorothy would talk about me now and then. Her daughter wanted me to know Dorothy was dieing. Without hesitation, I said, "I will be there to say goodbye and I will do what I can to make it happen today (Monday)." I sat in my chair after I got off the phone and cried. First, Dorothy was moving on soon and that made me sad. Second I felt this sensation in my heart and could not believe the timing of things.
Jon Katz, author of my all time favorite dog books recently began hospice work with his dogs. I am in awe of what he does and what he is learning. I keep it in the back of my mind that I would like to have that experience someday. Now was my chance… Frankie and I would go visit Dorothy. I would be saying goodbye to a dear lady, but I would also be fulfilling a purpose I’ve wanted to experience. As I drove there and home, I had some sad regrets about not going to say goodbye to my own grandma when she died a few years ago. I could not bring myself to do it. I was scared to see someone dieing. I had witnessed it years ago when my grandpa died and that image stuck in my mind.
I am at a new place in my life. I understand and embrace that dieing is a part of living. If we only knew where we are going, which I believe is the most beautiful place, we would not be afraid of dieing. I also believe our animals will be the first one’s we see. Their tails a waggin’, their smiles wide, as they embrace us, only as an animal can do.
I was so glad I went to see Dorothy. Yes, she was frail and dieing, but a small spark of life was still there. She remembered me. I put Frankie in bed by her side. She stroked and stroked little Frankie saying, "Dogs know when you love them." I said, "Yes, you are exactly right Dorothy." She then told me she was ready to go and the sooner the better. I told her that was OK. Instead of pretending like someone is not dieing, we must face it head on and embrace it. This was her wish, to move on. I asked her if she would do me a favor. She said yes. I told her about Cassie Jo and asked when she gets to heaven if she would say hi to her for me. She said she would. She carried that message home to Cassie Jo early Thursday morning. Dorothy’s wish came true and so did mine.
Goodbye Dorothy… till I see you again, take care of Cassie Jo for me.