Grief, Loss, and Holding Space
“The law of conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed - only converted from one form of energy to another.” In what realm do our loved ones, human or animal, souls and energy reside? This realm can be as close as a memory, a smell, a dream, the sight of a bird at your window. The synergistic energy we share with another soul, never dissolves, only transforms into a different form.
Recently, my mother passed from a somewhat short but deeply intense battle with dementia/Alzheimer’s. Our relationship was like a lot of mothers and daughters; it had its ups and downs. But the one thing we could ALWAYS count on, was that we had each other’s backs, come hell or high water. We always shared the same core values about goodness and animals. When it came to being there for each other, taking care of each other, there was a palpable sense of understanding. We always rose to the occasion. We could count on our deep love and commitment to one another.
With this particle disease, you lose your loved one twice, first to the disease and second to death. So, when I started losing my mother for the first time from dementia, I relied on her dog, Ziva, who comforted us both. Ziva was a reason to walk outside every day and get fresh air. She exemplified the common love we both shared for animals and anything with a nervous system. Ziva forced all three of us to go to the park, walk several times a day to feel the air, sun and breeze on our faces. We were alive outside in nature, spacious and open.
Mom and I shared our deep love and companionship for all animals, especially Ziva, who helped us see each other more clearly. This broke our hearts wide open with love for each other. Ziva’s sweet animal presence calmed the room, took attention away from us and opened a safe place in our hearts; a safe space to be present together, where we could feel our reality.
The second time I lost my mother was in the physical form. There are no words for this pain, but perhaps we can find comfort in knowing that grief and loss is a shared human experience. We all know what it is like to feel distraught after loss and to isolate from people but embrace our loving animal companions. Animals' innate beauty is they hold space for us to be fully present. Animals make us human.
Animals are our whole life. They reduce our heart rate with their calm presence, decrease levels of cortisol (a stress-related hormone) and lower blood pressure. There is such an exchange of companionship, joy and fun. Our animal family reduces loneliness, increases feelings of social support, and boosts our mood. When we interact with our animals, especially when we cuddle, we all experience a surge in Oxytocin, which makes us happier. Not to mention mirrors for our emotional wounds that need releasing Then there are the many spiritual lessons.
Whether you rescue a senior animal, raise it from a kitten or puppy or something in-between, there will come a point in time when their physical form must leave us. No one escapes this transition. We are never prepared; we never know how we will react when it happens. But having a sense of where the soul goes when it leaves its physical form, how energy changes, can aid us on this emotional journey of death, transition, and growth.
Ziva, along with all my mother’s animals throughout the years, my mother’s friends, our family, they will all hold the energy and memories of a life well-loved until we meet them on the other side. Together, Ziva and I will hold space here for each other to feel, process and grow with our grief. This heartfelt comfort is the ego-less unspoken gift our animals give to us, every day. Like a tree that grows in and around an obstacle in the ground, those of us left on earth, take on a new shape, evolve, and move forward with the warmth, sorrow, and of loss in our hearts. We can experience death as a sacred part of life, one we can cradle with love, presence and connection. If lucky enough, we do this with an animal companion by our side. The experience is priceless.