Susan Ory Powers's Open Salon Blog

Sabrina

Sun, 22 Apr 2012 13:04:54 -0400

Dear Friends,

Sabrina died this past Wednesday, April 18, 2012, at 4:30 p.m.

She was far past her life expectancy, but weakening. Those last moments, I got her to the vet’s, and the vet came out to the car where I had her. He tried to revive her, but didn’t happen. I’m glad I did not have to bring her inside. She hated the vet’s office, would not have wanted to leave this earth from in there. She was in the Volvo, the vehicle in which we had traveled many miles together. I stroked her as she left me.

I’m sorry I’ve waited these few days before letting you know, but I couldn’t handle. Even now I feel so inadequate to try to pay tribute to this wonderful soul.

Sabrina was a dog. . . . .But . . .“Sabrina was not a dog” as my neighbor described her.

I always knew when a thunderstorm was coming. Sabrina let me know by moving closer to me long before the clouds gathered.

Once when she came to me to remind me it was time for our afternoon walk, I told her, “Not today. I’m just not in the mood.” She turned from me and went to the door. I let her out. In a few minutes our neighbor came up the front steps. “Sabrina told me I had to come get you up for our walk,” Margo said. Sabrina had crossed the street to Margo’s yard, got her attention, and guided her to our house. We went for our walk. I knew better than to contradict Sabrina when she showed such resolve.

Another time, when my daughter Kim and her dog Jazz were on their way to visit me in Los Angeles, near the planned hour of their arrival, Sabrina began pacing in an excited, happy way. I asked her why she was behaving so. She gave me her typical condescending glance and turned from me. The phone rang. It was Kim saying that she was just on the outskirts of the city and would be at our door in about a half hour. I hung up the phone, and Sabrina sat. She knew I finally understood what she was trying to let me know.

Like in the photo above, sometimes she would look at me—like I was supposed to “get it.” But I didn’t. Yet she seemed to understand that with me being homo sapiens, I was inept at real communication. She tolerated me anyway.

In fact, I felt blessed that she tolerated me, that she allowed me to have moments of experience with this very special creature.

These past few days, it has been so hard when I return to my house. Standing on the front porch, I look at my front door. Sabrina will not be in her usual place just inside, waiting for my return. She is no longer there. Sometimes I have to wait a few minutes before I enter. I allow a couple of tears. The door that I will open today and for unknown tomorrows is no longer the door that opens to where Sabrina is.

Yet I know now she is on the other side of another door.

The Choice of Joy: Day 39, My Mother's Signature

Sun, 20 Feb 2011 23:02:44 -0500

The Choice of Joy: Day 39, My Mother's Signature

Today I was going through a shelf in the bathroom, trying to eliminate some toiletries and asprin bottles that were at least a decade old. I came across a bottle of Anais Anais perfume. It was Mother's.

I remembered us talking about perfumes once, and she mentioned several that she liked. Then she said, "Of course, Anais Anais is my signature fragrance."

Today I sprayed a whif of the perfume on my wrist and inhaled. She was right. The aroma was like she just walked by.

Is this the passing of an era? I do not have a "signature frangrance." Neither does my daughter or daughter-in-law.

Perhaps we should, so someday our children can inhale the smell and think of us. It was a joy to have my mother's brief visit through my mind.

The Choice of Joy: Day 38, Petting The Duchess

Sat, 19 Feb 2011 23:02:11 -0500

The Choice of Joy: Day 38, Petting The Duchess

A very simple joy, running my palm across The Duchess’s forehead. She is a German Shepherd that I have had the privilege of sharing living space with for 10 years now.

Some say that it is good for your blood pressure to have a pet companion to touch.

I’d do it anyway. When I pet her head, she looks at me and blinks. I believe she approves. Her tongue hangs out, teeth showing, like she is giving me what amounts to a dog smile. I so enjoy feeling her hair and the slight movement of her head in time with her breathing when I stroke her head. Such a simple, wonderful joy.

The Choice of Joy: Day 37, Elephants, Manatees and Us

Fri, 18 Feb 2011 16:02:51 -0500

The Choice of Joy: Day 37, Elephants, Manatees and Us

I once heard that there were three animals that could cry: elephants, manatees and Homo sapiens. It is probably an apocryphal because I can’t find any hard science to back that up.

I cried today over some sentimental thoughts, missing some friends and family, some dead and some just absent.

There was a period in my life when I could not cry. It lasted two years. It was a very difficult time, one that I would wish to no one. The tears today allow my gratitude that that other time in my life is over. Worse than crying is not being able to, feeling like something inside of you is dead or in a very deep coma.

So there is a joy in the tears. Feeling grief is better than not and reminds me that all the parts of me are alive.

The Choice of Joy: Day 36, Getting Something Right

Thu, 17 Feb 2011 13:02:51 -0500

The Choice of Joy: Day 36, Getting Something Right

I just watched:

http://www.ted.com/talks/patricia_kuhl_the_linguistic_genius_of_babies.html?utm_source=newsletter_weekly_2011-02-16&utm_campaign=newsletter_weekly&utm_medium=email

The video is about how infants learn language.

After watching this video, as I often do, my mind races to possibilities and new suppositions, frequently extending the information far beyond the truth of the research.

With the above disclaimer, I thought back to becoming a mother. I remember deciding not to talk “baby talk” to my firstborn. I would use the best of my vocabulary instead.

I did the same with my second child. At puberty, my oldest had an IQ of 165 and my second child’s IQ was not far behind. Both have always ranked in at least the 95^th percentile in verbal skills on tests.

Back to the video:

The speaker mentions the openness of an infant’s brain to learning. The infant brain does not differentiate what to take in and what not to, but as we mature, depending on environment, parts of our brain fall into disuse while other portions further develop. New tech devices have the possibility of developing further research on the way individual brains evolve, learning techniques and even keeping the mature brain open to new knowledge.

I look forward to further news about our brains and what science can do to increase human potential.

But even more, I look back and think that maybe as a young mother that I did something right. For many parents, we are often reminded of all the mistakes we made as nurturers by our adult children. And thus conditioned, every time a new study comes out on child psychological development, I check the history of my nurturing against the study, usually coming out with a failing grade. So between my children’s interpretations of my failings and my own assessment based on new research, the list of my transgressions is rather long.

Yet here is finally some research that makes me look pretty good. Of course, I am making some pretty broad leaps in logic. Providing sounds to infants to help them develop language is not necessarily pertinent to using those sounds in multi-syllable words. I get that. All right, it’s a stretch.

But my “I did it wrong” list is so long, that anything I can put on the “I did it right” list should be allowed. Besides, those multi-syllable words I spoke just might have helped my infants get the concept of putting those syllables together and juxtapose them in certain ways.

I’ll take what I can get in the “I did it right” list. Joy!