Why I Won’t be Dyeing My Hair Purple

So I was in Wendy’s eating my salad (11 points!!!!!, horrors!) and this couple came in with their friend.  She had long, long, hair, just hanging there, but the perfect shade of purple.  Still, she looked frumpy and…dare I say it…kind of odd, furtive, and strange.  I kept glancing at her, because, after all, it was the PERFECT shade of purple, but I realized that it just looked…WEIRD.  Freakishly, abnormally, unbelievably WEIRD.  I got to thinking about what kind of an impression I would be giving to the world (sigh) and it was at this point that I noticed that the wild socks she was wearing under her TEVA sandals, weren’t socks at all, but tattoos!  Horrors.

 I can no longer envision a me that doesn’t look freaky and weird in purple hair.
Okay, so that’s a really dumb way to begin a blog, but then again, even though I want to address bigger issues of faith and life interacting, sometimes, we’re all just silly humans, thinking about trivialities, like dyeing my hair purple or the latest Transformer movie.  This is part of who we are.

I put my dog to sleep last Thursday.  I’m grieving and yet, I am laughing and enjoying things, but every good thing has the dye of sadness seeping into it.  My grief is dyed with happiness.  I love my dog, more than I can say, and if I had to do it all over again, I would (selfishly) keep her alive as long as possible.  After all, she is my first thought upon waking up (well, second, right after ‘oh, crap does my [insert body part here] hurt.’  After my morning ouch, I reach out with my toe outstretched, gingerly searching for her so that I don’t step on her, sleeping next to the bed.  I awaken with grief.  I come home to grief, knowing she is not waiting for me.

These griefs are common to us all, and I have friends and co-workers who have been very kind.  I have cards from thoughtful friends.  Did you know there are cards about losing a pet?  I didn’t either!  It helps that people are thoughtful like this.  How kind!

Ah, the old girl let me peek into the future, her aches, her pains and difficulties, her incontinence, hinting at what may be in store for me in my later years.  We thought about putting her in doggie diapers, but decided to spare her dignity.  I wish we had wrapped her in doggie depends and still had her here to stare longingly at the scraps on our plates.  The pain in my husband’s face makes me feel bad…guilty, regretful.  I’m filled with second-thoughts, third thoughts, fourth and fifth thoughts… I know if I had allowed her to go on like she was that I could not have done this, and would have let her suffer ’til the bitter end.  I probably would have felt guilty about that too.  Had she been an outside dog, no doubt she would have crawled off long ago.  Or maybe not.

So these are the thoughts.  This is the beginning of this blog, a new start.  I may transfer some of my stuff from my other blog, from my private writing and from my Facebook Notes, but while this may feel random, it is not.  Underlying and underpinning my thoughts, are deeper things, truer things, the significance in the trivialities, as it were.  Every moment, every thought has deeper meaning, deeper lessons to be learned.  Our lives are small, but important, insignificant but magnificent.  Hopefully as we go on, we’ll flesh out some of those seemingly contradictory statements.