For the ones left behind, we carry the sorrow still. On our backs. Sweat, tears, blood.

To a looming house beyond large wooden gates, framed by palm trees.  Here we will find you, I am sure. The day is so hot. The Floridian sun unforgiving.

This is the house that dreams built. And then the house held them tightly for so long. I always thought that one day I would come to retrieve them. I didn't know they would drown.

My mouth is dry. I have been holding my brother's hand the whole trip. We saw a rainbow just a bit before passing The Last Chance Saloon. The overseas highway makes me nastalgic. All the stories I ever dreamed about Key Largo and the adventures it held for me one day when I came back a more glamorous star came rushing back as the wind flew through my hair. Something about the palms, the way salt air sticks to your skin, the faded city lights, and the sound of water lapping against the rocks under the dock...

The house is just as we thought it would be. Silent. Empty, yet full of you still. Your flip flops are in front of the chair, before the coffee table where you took them off last night. Your earrings on the table next to your reading glasses. I sit down in the chair, just as you did. And close my eyes and try to bring you back.

We have scattered. The three of us in different parts of the house searching for clues. The kitchen is your kitchen. Fully stocked with gourmet food and Vernon's ginger ale. Every single thing in it is a reflection of you. From the silverware to the serving dishes to the left over chicken cutlets in the fridge... The last time I spoke to you, you told me you made chocolate cookies... "Eating the dough before you cook them always makes me feel better," I said...

On the dining room table are presents for Christmas that you were wrapping. Beside the table, un opened boxes shipped here by UPS.  There is one box on the table that catches my eye. It is the one that I sent you. It contains the message that was supposed to save you. It has yet to be opened. I just walk away.

I walk up the stairs, the vast floor to ceiling windows behind me as if I am in the movie screen. Each step perfectly pointed, I walk as if I am following the script. The next page contains the same old scene. I find you at the desk paying bills, in your bedroom reading a book, in the bathroom putting on your make-up, in the closet picking out clothes...  but that movie moved inland. On the coast, its a different scene now. 

My eyes fall on the four post bed. The newly finished hardwood floors... the way the sheets have been ripped off the bed and thrown aside in a heap, the way the rug as been pushed and bunched up and the way its still there like she said it was there and I kneel down to examine it to make sure it is what they said it was. And it is. And I thought seeing it would explain things better somehow. But still there are no answers.

Your clothes are neatly stacked and hung but they are everywhere. A glitzy black and gold party dress, stilletto Gucci shoes, an oversized green leather purse that you had brought to New York City when you came to visit, the flip flops, denim skirts, gold jewelry, a patchwork baby doll dress catches my eye. I take it off the door frame where its hanging on a hanger and keep it with me even though its completely inappropriate for a funeral. For some reason, I know its important.

In the end, I choose angelic dresses... and a pair of ballet flats that were on the floor by the nightstand... I knew you must have worn them recently... maybe the day before yesterday...

I go off to search for the camera... and the video camera. The police couldn't find it. Maybe there is something on them... a hint. Something we need to know... i go through the office... on the bookshelf I find a framed photo of me and you... I run my fingers over it lightly... Its on the same shelf as The Purpose Driven Life...

Drawers are opened. Closets inspected. The day is losing light and I am downstairs again... in a back hallway about to enter the room I slept in the last time I was here. Its completely dark in there and my hands miss the switch as they run over the wall. For a second, I panic and fear overtakes me as I can't see anything but blackness. I turn and walk back to the main part of the house.

By the time we make it down to the dock, the stars are lining up in the Islamorada sky. I walk past the flowers... they are everywhere... on the steps, on the patio, around the pool... under a sign that says "MamaRosa" next to the couch, next to the table where you taught me to play Yatzie one holiday not too long ago...

The waterfall in the pool is off and the water eerily still. I think how they told her to check the pool when I was on the phone and how I thought she should check the closets but not when she was by herself and how now I think that I would have never have thought I could think such a thing...

The Florida bay stretches out before me. Boat rides over the flats and through the channels with the music blaring... "Well she was an american girl, raised on promises..."... we were coming back from the Lorelei after sunset...  we were sitting next to each other, you were singing... the wind tangling up our hair and your skin was tanned, nails painted, a gold ring...

I don't hesitate to step onto the doggie dock. I know the others are unsure but I have to know. I examine it, lie down on it, feel it, jump on it, look under the real dock. There must be something here. But there is not.

I feel defeated.

There is just the doggie dock.  A twilight. The water. And three of the four holding hands. 

"God please look after our mother the same loving way she looked after us all of these years..."

And we threw roses on the doggie dock. Beautiful long stem roses.

And there is nothing else to say. Nothing else to do.

That tears that fall into the canal are lost.

As we turn to leave, I don't want to go. I feel stricken with panic again. I know it will never be this way again. If I leave now, I will never find you here again because maybe there is a chance, just a small chance that you are still here, a glimmering light struggling to stay a glow... I just haven't found you yet. I haven't looked in the right places. I should look harder before you fade away completely and for one desperate moment I want to break away and run back again.

Yet I say nothing as we solemnly make our way to the car.  I close my eyes and breathe it all in, one more time... the sway of the palms, the current of the water, the feel of the breeze on my skin... As the gates close behind us, I look back at the house, at the front door. Its so dark now. The glass on the front door is a black hole.  How fast the house has changed from weaver of dreams to graveyard of dreams.

i know when i come back to collect the memories it will be different.  Paradise as we have known it is gone without you.   
 

 

I woke up crying. I had been dreaming. My whole family was there. My parents before me telling me I had to move to Florida. "But where will I live?" I asked. I looked at my mom and that was when I realized she was dead. I told her, "You aren't there anymore and I am scared to go to Islamorada." She told me not be afraid. "I will show you everything."

It was Lucky Charm who woke me up. She was walking around the tiled floor of the bedroom by the backdoor. I got up to let her out and then lay back down for a moment next to Horatio who thinks he is my boyfriend. He got up, turned a circle and then lay back down as close as he possibly could to me. He sighed and rested his head on my leg.

And so the day began.

Coffee, vitamins, feed dogs, let dogs out, check emails, get dressed and off to the vet. Eva, a dog we rescued off the Euth list, needed to get her stitiches out. She had gotten into a fight with another dog who put a good size hole in Eva's leg. When I took Eva in after the fight Dr Stenger said, "It looks worse than it is." which was a relief because it looked pretty bad. The stitches were in two weeks and had started to come out yesterday. Dr Stenger took the rest of the stitches out and cleaned the wound thoroughly. She have me detailed instructions on how to care for the wound. Then we spoke about ordering vaccines for 100 cats that were left to us in a house. More on that in a later blog.

After the vet, I took Eva with me to Bobbi's house to pick up litter boxes. Eva seemed happy to be away from the shelter. There was a light rain falling, still I opened the window a crack to let her sniff the fresh air.

Eva is a shepherd mix, perhaps with Akita? We are not sure. She is all black with white tipped paws and chest and a short curled tail. She is only five years old. I feel Eva has been overlooked at the shelter. She is gentle, easy going, loves to play fetch. She needs to be introduced slowly to other dogs. Being cooped up in a cage doesn't help though. All of her pent up energy needs to be released. We are trying to exercise our dogs as much as possible... but giving them what they need isn't always possible due to staff to dog ratio at the shelter.

Eva desperately needs a buddy. Someone to take her out to the park, walk her around the neighborhood. Let her relax and be away from the stressful shelter envionment. It is always hard to put the dogs back in the cages after I have taken them somewhere and Eva is no exception. I felt like crying after seeing her so happy just to be riding around in the back seat of the car, sticking her snout out the window, breathing in the misty air. If she got out on a daily basis, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

After I drop Eva off, I rush home to take Lucky and Horatio for a walk before the next shift at the shelter starts in two hours. Lucky and Horatio are ecstatic to see me. I leash them up and run the quarter of a block to Ft Greene Park with them. They are so excited you would think they have never been walked before. They are running and sniffing and peeing on every tree, patch of grass, fence post, flower. Quite amusing to watch! The park is empty because of the gray weather. The mist makes the park seem ghostly yet beautiful.  We need days like this every once in awhile to remind us to appreciate the sun.

After I bring Lucky and Horatio back to the tiny apartment we call home, I am off to the shelter again. On the way  stop by to pick up some different dog food for our three picky eaters. The first picky eater, Trixie had no problem expressing her dismay over finding Pedigree in her food bowl from day one. The staff has been going to McDonalds daly to buy her hamburgers and chicken nuggets to get her to eat. Yesterday Bobbi gave me some Evangers canned food which was just chicken and broth. Trixie loved it! As did the other two picky eaters, Ruth, a 13 yr old corgi mix whos owner went into a nursing home and Eba, a rottweiler who's owner passed away. Ruth wasn't always picky but she came down with kennel cough two days ago and now needs something a little more tasty than Pedigree to perk up her appetite. Same story with Eba.

My co-worker for the night showed up early and its a good thing he did. We are at our limit of dogs that two workers can handle in five hours without cutting into the dogs exercise. I know we are going to need more volunteers in the upcoming weeks because I have three more urgent dogs that need to come to the shelter asap. One is a doberman that was abandoned at a boarding facitlity. He has untreated mange and he is so scared he shakes in his cage. My heart breakes for him. Another is a female pit bull abandoned at a vet's office who I haven't met yet and the third is a Great Dane that the owner can no longer afford.  Aworker at the boarding facility gave me a heads up on a dog that may be abandoned. "They boarded him for a month," she said."But they said they can't handle the dog because its their son's dog and he went to college. I don't know what they are going to do." Great. The dog is a male tan and white pit bull that looks a lot like my own Lucky Charm.

To top it off, an hour into the shift the police bring a chow/shepherd to the shelter that was found in the neighborhood. The dog is gorgeous with a black and tan medium length coat.  He is young and hyper but extremely friendly. We agree to pay boarding cost while we look for the owner. If the owner isn't found, we will put the dog up for adoption.

My co-worker and I work five and a half hours straight walking the dogs. Each dog gets two walks in this time and cleaning is done in between. The rain isn't too bad, just a drizzle and the dogs don't seem to mind. I am grateful I finally invested in rain boots (that I bought through goodshop.com which donated a portion of the sales to our shelter!) It must be nice to get out of the stuffy shelter room. I walk Eva who likes to stop and investiage everything, and Ruth who pauses to sniff the air every once in awhile, and Eba who walks calmly at my side just to name a few. I focus on each dog I am walking... trying to take them in, give them the attention they need... watch them sniff, prance, enjoy their little journey. Tickles, a pit mix that has been with us two years like to carry a tennis ball around with her on her walk. She stops occasionally to lie down and chew on it.  It must feel like being one of 20 children in a family when they are at the shelter. Each vying for attention.  We try to give them everything we can. Exericise, playtime, training and just lying around time. Staff have been known to crawl into the cages with the dogs and just pet them, each closing their eyes and just relaxing, enjoying the company.

After everyone is done their last walk for the night, all the cages are scrubbed, all the dogs fed, dishes washed, runs hosed out, medication given, medical charts updated etc I pack up the dirty laundry into a bag to take home to do overnight. The ride home is pretty quick. The bad weather didn't hold traffic up too much and for that I am grateful. On the BQE, you normally have a breathtaking view of the Manhattan skyline. Tonight it was just an eerie glow behind the fog. 

When I walk in the door, Lucky and Horatio are ecstatic to see me. I let them out, feed them and then go to start the laundry downstairs in the laundry room. I am so lucky to have a washer and dryer right outside my apartment door. Rare for this part of Brooklyn!

After I make dinner, I check my email again, update somethings on the website, and view the Euth list with a heavy heart. So many beautiful dogs that deserve to live, that want to live are going to be put to sleep tomorrow.  Can't I make room for just one more somewhere at the shelter? My mind goes in a million different directions... I need more foster homes, I need a bigger apt so I can foster a dog, we need a bigger shelter, more volunteers etc etc etc. I make a mental list of all these things we need... tomorrow we need to work on getting them... The economy has put most things on hold including adopting and giving donations- but for the dogs and cats at the kill shelter, they don't have time to wait for things to get better. They need help NOW. Every moment wasted contributes to a life being lost.

To do as much as I can, I know I have to keep my body and mind healthy, I have to stay organized and focused- cut out any negativity. Focus on the wonderful things going on around me and on ways I can help those less fortunate then myself, including the animals.

Its midnight now.  The rain is still falling softly outside. Lucky is snoring on the dog bed. Horatio is on the couch next to me.  I am alive. I am grateful for that. I have my health, my dogs, food, housing, a job. I have the opportunity every day to make a difference in the lives of animals and of people who are going through tougher times than I am. The world around me is beautiful... and though I cannot see my mom, I know she is still apart of it.  There are many things we can't explain, but know in our heart. This is one of them.

"The tears I shed yesterday have become the rain." Thich Nhat Hanah