Balsa Girl

Hey there animal fans.

CCI (canine companions for independence) is an organization that breeds, trains, and places extremely high-caliber assistance dogs with individuals with some form of inhibited ability. Whether it's hearing, mobility, or learning related. Although each dog will cost about $45,000 by the time they're trained and placed, they are donated to their human matches. Given that one of my dearest friends was matched and graduated with her own service dog, Tadaki, I have a serious loyalty and commitment to the organization.

Tadaki is a professional. I don't see him get rowdy or hyper unless his vest is off, and his Kelly announces "release!" and our office-dweller friend Paul comes by. He's a very serious dog. Sometimes I swear Tadaki is rolling his eyes at me. He's not a snuggler. He's not a toucher/feeler. He's a worker. He is sweet and loving, but he means business. Kelly is his number one priority.

During 2009's annual girls' trip we call Jackson Fireball, I was lying on the floor of the condo, crying. It was only a few months after Rbf was killed, and I had hardly any social stamina. Too much activity would level me, and that night it did. Tadaki walked quietly into the room, saw me laying there, breathed deep and lowered himself to the ground in front of me. He curled up against me and I fell asleep spooning him. The next day, I woke up on the floor in the same position. Tadaki was there, in position, hadn't moved an inch. He would not leave my side until I got up off the floor. A dog can see a broken soul, and can soothe it in special ways.

CCI trusts trained volunteers with the first year of each dog's life, to raise in preparation for the advanced intensive training. These volunteers use their own time and money to raise these dogs. At the end of that year, they have to say goodbye. It takes a special kind of person to do this. Obviously. When these people go out of town, they have to have a backup in place. Enter Kir!

The first dog I "puppy sat," was Macy. It just so happened it was the first night in my apartment, six months after the accident. I had let my apartment sit empty for a month. I couldn't bear to accept what it meant to sleep there. Macy was there the first night. In the middle of moving, I didn't have the energy to set up her crate. Instead I made her a bed out of padding in my empty room. I turned off the light and flopped down on my bare mattress on the floor. Macy waited about 30 seconds, and tiptoed up onto my mattress. CCI dogs in training are NOT allowed on furniture, and certainly not in beds. This puppy curled into a ball behind the bend of my knee. I did not care what I had signed, how many hours of training and lectures I've received, there was no way on God's holy earth that I was moving that dog. I let her think she was sneaky the next three nights as she climbed up and slept behind my legs, where Rbf's knees used to go. I could hear her breathing and feel her heartbeat as I fell asleep. She saved me from the brutal sadness of what it meant to be sleeping in that room.

Today, I finally got the FAA's final accident report on Rbf's plane crash. I saw more pictures and diagrams of what landed where on that mountain. I read the details of every twist of metal on every broken piece of that plane. And I cried. Amidst the aviation jargon and plane-speak, I read this bit which was not in the preliminary report:

"...After leaving the airport, the flight path goes northwest and continues along the Snake River. The path begins..."

It jogged a memory of us flying low over the Snake, following the river like a path. It was the only piece of the report that referenced the human experience that was that final flight. Before, it was just a technical description. Now, it is a human experience. So, naturally, I spend 20 minutes crying at my desk like a true professional. One more layer of this being real was laid down on my world. And it hurt, but I will tell you, it was sweet. I knew what that part of the report meant. It was the part of the flight when Rbf made it fun, so proud to have both his dad and brother on board at the same time, and hoping they loved it as much as he did. It's hard to imagine them going down in a plane, but in my mind's eye I can totally see them flying above the river on their boys adventure.

I came home with Balsa, a puppy - only one week into the program. She is two months old. She squirms and nips at my hair, but is already potty trained and doesn't make any noise. She cuddles and perks her giant floppy ears at me, and cocks her head. My heavy heart melts a little. And then my phone rings, it's my mom. My brother's best friend committed suicide tonight.

I hear my tall, sturdy, stable brother weeping in the room with mom. And that powerless feeling he and she felt a year ago, that horrible, impotent silence, I just couldn't bear it. I'd never heard anything like that sound before in my life.

My mom asked me to leave a note online for the grieving family. I open Facebook. Gill is my friend on the site, and I go to his page and leave a note for him. I see at the bottom of the page that he is a member of the Facebook support group, titled "WE LOVE YOU KIR" that was started for me when I lost Rbf. And it blew my mind. My heart breaks to think of his breaking for me last year - and now here we are today. Even as I sit here now, the tenure of my loss and the merit badges of survival I wear every day...I honestly can not imagine surviving what Gil's family has to. How can this be borne?

And there was Balsa. On my floor, squirming and hrrming and hawwwing with my hair clip. And so I cry, and she makes it a little better. If CCI is reading, she is of COURSE sleeping in her crate tonight...

:)

Forgiveness

For my Learning Topic delivery at 10/10/10 YMAD meeting:

A woman killed in the Virginia Tech shooting wrote about forgiveness in her final journal entry before her passing, this was a video made about it. A lot dramatic, but what's not dramatic about any of that? Hope it moves you a little.



When Reboyfriend passed away, a very close friend I've had since 7th grade drove up for the funeral. Her sweet husband had only met me once, and never met Reboyfriend. He's a very spiritual person, and I respect it. He came home to her shortly after Rbf died, before the funeral, and told her that every time he thought of Rbf, me, and this tragedy, he kept feeling the strongest impressions returning to him regarding the importance of forgiveness. He was reluctant to share, but felt such a sense of the imperative that it be passed to me, that he told her, and she told me.

There was not much I could think of that I needed to forgive Rbf for. I resent how much time I lost with him and a lot of that was his fault. He also made mistakes just like any human being. But I believe that this wasn't about me needing to forgive him for anything in particular. I believe it was him needing to pass that lesson along to me.

When I had a chance to choose what topic I'd be cramming down the youths throats all year for YMAD before dragging them to a 3rd world country, I saw "Forgiveness" on the page. All I could think about was my friend's amazing husband and the humility he seemed to feel in passing this info on to her for me. I decided it would be my topic for the year, and here I am.

I feel abandoned by Rbf often. I feel frustrated with him for taking too long to do everything. I feel robbed by him.

I feel left behind.

But I also feel inspired by him every day and this is one virtue I am glad I get to practice and learn more about in the time I spend alive.

Wish me luck delivering my training presentation tonight. xo/km

Remember that one time when I was a blogger?

I have had like two or three people ask where I am in blogland. I feel like JK Rowling when she hinted the HP series might be over. I'm obviously famous and important.

SO...as is the case every year, I crawl under a rock (it resembles a cubicle) and don't come out until like, November, and that's only for the annual Fireball trip with my friends. Guess what. If you have benefits from your job, and you are aware of them, it's because of courageous men and women just like me, had to tell you about them. Courageous men and women who look like shit after three months of pencil pushing with your HR manager on how to convey to you the expensiveness and grandeur of your employee benefits. Think about when it is you get that info. Right around October. Someone is behind the evil. And that someone...once had a very pleasant blog that is now inviting cobwebs, graffiti, drug deals and homeless squatters. Well the bitch is back.

My bluntly bitchy friend misses my old blogs that are fun to read, and are not depressing. I asked her what effing posts she's talking about, and she referenced some story I never wrote about a place I have never been. I told her I was sorry, I don't remember a whole lot of things that never really happened. But the principle stands, that I think it's safe to stop doing this about every little thing someone says to me about dating and boys and flirting.

Because it makes me be that way to a lot of people. Sorry everyone.

Anyway, I am a big girl and I wrote even on a week when I have 3 week old garbage in my kitchen after three 50 hour weeks at work. Durr.

It's kind of nice being nice. And not making people run away from me after flipping out on them.

Sorry.

In other news, I've been officially blogging for six years. Happy October!!!