Four years ago, on this day, you didn’t prance into my life but quietly laid a claim on my soul. If there was ever a miracle in my life, it was you and how you came to be. It is a story how destiny brought us together on a rainy day to save each other.
I was on my way back home from seeing other puppies and your rescuer called me asking for help. It was raining pins and needles and you and your siblings had no shelter. The only selfish reason I did my best to help out was a “what if”. What if my baby is in danger?
I never birthed you but you still came from me, may be we share the same star dust. We may not share a DNA but you are a mirror to me. You show me how scared I am, you show me how stubborn and irrational I can be, you show me my anxiety and you remind me to chuck the future, to live in the now. The moment I see you, something inside me awakens; when I touch you, time slows down. You do not speak, yet I understand everything you think. May be this is what they call “the soul remembering”.
I had already stopped rebelling way before you came, I had quieted down, learned to choose my battles; but you showed me how impatient and short tempered I was, how I was not giving space to myself, how I was not pausing and resting, what I so desperately needed. You came and you made everything alright. Four years ago, I made the mistake of not accepting you, not showering you with love and not allowing you in my space. You became a dog roaming in the house, unable to rest because of a lack of access, to a dog who shares my bed and blankets. Now, I don’t care if my bed is full of fur and dander yet others are still not allowed to keep their unwashed feet on it.
I could never write letters of such intimacy earlier, even now I am struggling with words, putting them out to the world comes with the danger of judgement, self more than others. Yet, I profess my undying devotion to you. You are my God, you are my devil, you became my shadow. You gave me a purpose and a structure even though I never gave you a life better. The bad parent guilt is stronger.
I still recall those excruciating moments you were scared and hiding under the bed, I felt so helpless. A thousand times and more I have apologized since, and couldn’t be sorrier. That day I understood the anger and the helplessness of a parent, why they resort to abuse and how futile it can be. The child doesn’t understand anything else but the cold danger and the warmth of safety.
I was supposed to be your umbrella, I became the stick. I have atoned for my sins and yet punish myself. Now, when I lose my patience, I take a pause and carry you gently. Thank you for making me the adult I was supposed to be, an adult I missed being.
