Missing.

New Year’s Day is always about reflection.  It’s a chance to stare into the pool of the previous year and differentiate between the reality of who we are and the yellow kiddy pee of our distorted views.

 

I also believe it’s the harbinger of the year to come.  What we make of New Year’s Day is what becomes of our new year.  Last year, a friend told me that her family used to dress up in their best clothes for the New Year and that way they’d be at their best when the newy gooey goodness hit.

 

2008 was a year of healing. New Years day 08 I feasted on chicken noodle and drank the broth of paradise. I spent the day recovering from a nasty cold.   I stayed home and healed.  That’s the way the whole year went. It was me recovering from the horror of 2007.  It was Rob finding his “me” legs again.

 

I think that’s why I’m most concerned about 2009. This morning I got up, and the sky was a flawless blue; the mountains were all visible; it was already 70 degrees outside; the air tasted clean; the birds chattered a welcoming song; my dog and companion was missing.

 

He never leaves.  I had no gate on my yard for a month, and he stayed in the back.  I put up a makeshift chain link barrier to keep him honest. This morning, the barrier was down and Cosmo had left home.

 

After MyEx left, he was my one true friend left in hug’s reach.  You know what I found out when he went missing?  That’s still the case.  Because the first thing I wanted to do was to reach out for help.  There was nobody to embrace. 

 

It’s like playing musical chairs and finding out you’re the one left standing. 

 

“Oh, that’s me…”

 

I’m not saying this for an “awww…” I don’t need a pat, pat and a “it’ll be alright.”  It’s my own doing.  I mean, I work at home, and I spend most of my time there.  Even in my cyberworld, I’ve surrounded myself with breakaway people and people keeping a distance. I have no one really to tell that my best friend is gone. It feels like nobody would care, except me, and I already know.

 

It’s amazing at a point of loss how alone we perceive ourselves to be.  I might have five…ok two…well, fine no people standing up to say “I’m here,” but I still feel alone.  That’s the perception. We’re really blessed when there’s somebody we can call in a knee jerk reflex.

 

I’ve been a knee jerk. When we were dating, MyEx had a small dog.  He was really cute.  One day MyEx found the same thing I did: no dog.  She was devastated.  I remember listening to her cry over the phone.  I also remember during our divorce I selfishly wished she’d have cried half as much for me.  Still, I was glad that I could be there for her while I could.

 

So as I’m walking my neighborhood, calling my dog’s name I start realizing what a bad doggie daddy I am.  I mean my pup could be anywhere—hurt or worse—and I’m worrying about my shallow relationships. I say I want real people in my life, but how can I expect that when even now I’m being selfish and shallow?

 

And speaking of selfish and shallow, I’m beginning to feel just a little like Job.  I really would like something to go easy and work for me, you know?  I want to rail at God.  I want the victories I see others around me celebrating.  I want my dog, damnit!

 

I’m lashing and blaming everybody from MyEx to far away friends for my dog’s disappearance.  It’s not my fault, and now I’m striking out personal relationships because they’re personal.  See? Everybody leaves!  Even my dog.  It’s just a matter of time.  A chill wind whispers past, and I pull my self-pity coat snug, calling out the name of my betrayer dog and all his cohorts like a team of sled dogs to whip.

 

I go home, make a ream of flyers, then it’s back to the street.  I’ve got a job to do, and like Job, I may not understand my lot in life but it’s the one I’ve drawn.  See, I’m being forged for something.  I wish I knew what so I could at least bend the right way. All I know is that 09 looks like a forging year.

 

Maybe it’ll be a year of forging lasting relationships: strengthening old, finding new, maybe even relationships lost will return and flourish. 2008 was the year of the me, but 2009 looks to be the year of the expanding we.  I’m healed and it’s time to start looking outside the me side of relationships and delve into the dynamics of duos.

 

The fliers are all posted.  I’ve made myself available.  I’ve done what I can.  I wish I could be more proactive in this process, but that’s not my lot either. I just have to trust and wait.

 

You know what’s weird? Even as I type this, I find myself hoping somebody stole him because they loved him.  All I really want is for my friend to be safe and happy. If it’s not with me, then fine.  Everybody deserves love, and so long as the lost get that, what more can I ask?  It’s much better than hurt, abused, or alone and scared.

 

So I wait. I’m finding all relationships require that, because they all peak and wane. But when my pup returns, I’ll be here, and he’ll always have a home. 

 

Staring into the pool of my discontent, that’s all I can offer anyone in 2009: I’ll be here.