Calling all angels

“I need a sign to let me know you’re here”

Last night, I went from emotionally compromised to full out emotional melt down. Why? because it’s been a long December in several different directions. Some of you know some of the things that have been going on recently, some of the blows life’s delivered in the last few weeks and months, things that have happened, things that are going to happen, that have been piling up like stones against my heart ~ and last night, I felt another stone drop onto my heart, because our cat, Jake, was displaying all the same symptoms and behaviors that his litter-mate and life-long pal had displayed this time last year, just before he passed away. It was just one stone too many.

With some difficult days just ahead, it was just one stone too many, until at last I stood sobbing in my beloved’s arms at the kitchen sink ~ where he had followed me and, noodge that he is, wouldn’t let me just stand there and weep and wash dishes (I know it sounds weird but for me, the easing of many sorrows is work in my hands). So, I sobbed and sobbed, about everything, this last stone having opened a damn somewhere in me, letting everything flow out, all the fear, and sadness, and anger ~ not just because of Jake, not even mainly because of Jake. His illness was just the one stone too many.

At the end of it all, I determined that, if he survived the night, we would take Jake to the vet this morning and, if he had to go where we couldn’t follow, he would go lying in our arms and with our love to speed him on his way to where I know Wills waits for him.

When I woke this morning, having gone to sleep with that decision made, I woke with a headache and more tears backed up behind and leaking out of my eyes, and, coward that I am, I waited until James went downstairs and I could hear him talking to Jake before I got dressed and tried to prepare myself. And a song which I had only previously heard once, a long time ago, I don’t even remember where, was playing in my head: singing “calling all angels.”

Because that’s what you do when you don’t know what to do anymore. Your heart calls to you all your angels.

And I knew then that I would be writing this blog post with that title after we came back from the vet, having said good-bye to our friend. And so I am ~ but with an entirely different intent, an entirely different perspective, because Jake didn’t have to go yet, we didn’t have to send him. We got to bring him home with medicines and therapies to apply, to which he’s already responding, and I’m so very grateful that my heart knew to call all my angels ’round us.

When I sat down to write this, I searched for and found a video of the song ~ and it is the right song, though I had heard it in a woman’s voice in my head. I could tell when I heard the first words: “I need a sign to let me know you’re here . . . ”

I got my sign that lets me know my angels are here ~ and “that things are gonna look up” ~ and he’s sleeping in his makeshift bed right now.

I won’t give up, and I will be that “hand to help build up some kind of hope” for others, as my angels have done for me.

Here, let me share them with you.

I won’t give up. Ever. Just in case you need to know it someday . . . .

4 Replies to “Calling all angels”

  1. The dam needed to break, and what better lining than a recuperating Jake. I am happy your cat came back the very next day. Maybe less pressure on the barrier was the purpose of your cloud.
    I love you big bunches

  2. Calling all you angels
    Don’t know about the angel part, but here I am. But you know, even angels hear better with RSS feed enabled. (Not funny.)

    I want a reason for the way things have to be
    As to that, I’m sorry. As you know, I think this whole thing has no rhyme nor reason. It just is and we deal. Or try to.

    I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me
    Oh, here is mine and there’s his and hers, too. But in the end, yours is the one that’s gonna really do it. Yes, it will and you will. And all manner of things shall be well.

    and losing sight of having dreams
    See, here is where I don’t worry. I just know you’ll never lose sight of having dreams. And all manner of things shall be well.


    Come on, Jake, you can do it. The nice needle is full of good things for you. All is well.

    Like the man before me said. Big bunches. And all manner of things shall be well.

  3. Calling all you angels
    Don’t know about the angel part, but here I am. But you know, even angels hear better with RSS feed enabled. (Not funny.)

    hmmmm . . . didn’t know it was disabled . . . have to go fix that

    I want a reason for the way things have to be
    As to that, I’m sorry. As you know, I think this whole thing has no rhyme nor reason. It just is and we deal. Or try to.

    It is what it is, or so I’ve been hearing, lately ~ but love ~ don’t you know you are one of my angels? and when I need you, I feel your special vibration around me ~ that’s one of the ways I deal.

    I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me
    Oh, here is mine and there’s his and hers, too.

    see?

    But in the end, yours is the one that’s gonna really do it. Yes, it will and you will. And all manner of things shall be well.

    yes . . .

    and losing sight of having dreams
    See, here is where I don’t worry. I just know you’ll never lose sight of having dreams. And all manner of things shall be well.

    yes . . .


    Come on, Jake, you can do it. The nice needle is full of good things for you. All is well.

    Like the man before me said. Big bunches. And all manner of things shall be well.

    and yes, they shall, in large part because of you and him and her, whom I love and whose energy I lean on from time to time ~ let them know that, will you?

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