Mothering Through Loss and Finding New Hope
Jack, Henry, their dad, and me made this grave marker for Albert at our local pottery store. (Photo by author)
I filed for divorce in February 2021 and rented a small cottage on a friend’s property two months later. Albert, a dachshund-poodle puppy, joined our family as a Christmas present for Henry, my youngest son, in February of 2022. My children adored him the moment they set eyes on him. Soon my ex—who had always been dead-set against getting a dog—loved Albert too.
A few days after I brought Albert home, I was laid off from my job and fell into a period sadness and fear. Albert helped me to find hope and meaning through this difficult time. He was a source of healing for our whole family on the heels of what had been a difficult separation.
I was participating in preliminary meetings for our Conscious Uncoupling® coaches training when we lost Albert. The new sense of self-love and hope I was finding through the Conscious Uncoupling work helped me and my family to navigate Albert’s passing with love and find meaning through the loss.
This story was originally published in Human Parts on Medium on September 18, 2023.
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I used to say that I learned to love the day my daughter Evie was placed in my arms, her umbilical cord literally tethering her to me. Her leaving for college in August 2023 was yet another right of passage for my heart that has adapted continuously as she and my sons Jack and Henry have grown, relying on my nurturing less and less. The night before she left for the long drive to her new school, I took a photo of her and the boys with Albert, the sweet little dog we had brought home to my house as a puppy ten months after I had moved out of the family home.
Three days later — half an hour after I finished icing Jack’s 16th birthday cake — the boys and I pulled into our drive and saw Albert lying in the road in front of a stopped truck. I picked Albert up and cuddled his warm body. Henry immediately went for a shovel and started digging.
Jack called his dad who helped him and Henry finish the little grave. Henry gathered some of Albert’s favorite things, wrote a letter to him, and brought the green hoodie towel that had dried all three of my babies before being wrapped around Albert each time he came out of the shower with one of us — a little burrito waiting to be set free to run, roll, and shake dry. I wrapped his soft body in the towel and gave him to Henry who held him for a little while before lowering him into his resting place. We all took turns shoveling the dirt to cover him.
I took small comfort in the fact that Albert had loved to dig comfy holes for afternoon naps. After placing a log as a temporary marker along with some flowers Jack’s girlfriend had brought over, we called Evie to tell her the sad news. It was difficult for any of us to touch dinner, more less cake, so we postponed Jack’s birthday celebration.
When Evie was born I learned what it meant to love another unconditionally. When Albert came into my life I learned what it felt like to be unconditionally loved by one who, unlike a child, would never get mad or hold a grudge.
The morning before Albert died, I had journaled about how grateful I was that despite the separation and my many flaws as a mother, everything was going well for our family. Evie seemed excited about college. Jack was looking forward to getting his driver’s license and he and some friends had celebrated his birthday at my place the night before. Henry had enjoyed his first week of middle school.
While appreciating our good fortune, I recall praying for the many suffering in Maui and other places already feeling the devastation of climate catastrophes. In August 2020 over 400 families in our California mountain community had lost their homes in a wildfire. Some had also lost beloved pets. My sadness over losing Albert has helped me to imagine a tiny fragment of the pain all who have lost loved ones — perhaps entire families, communities, and everything they have known and loved — must be feeling.
When Evie was born I learned what it meant to love another unconditionally. When Albert came into my life I learned what it felt like to be unconditionally loved by one who, unlike a child, would never get mad or hold a grudge.
Albert was my spirit guide. A few days after we brought him home I lost my job and a few weeks after that found out I was no longer in the running for a position that would have been a big career boost. When those disappointments combined with fear and uncertainty about just about everything in my life and our ailing world sent me into a downward spiral, Albert woke me up each morning. He and I began taking barefoot walks and sitting quietly on the mountainside noticing ants, bees, butterflies, hummingbirds, and tiny weeds poking through the ashy, needle-covered soil. If it hadn’t been for Albert (and my Conscious Uncoupling community and learning) I probably would have been glued to my bed drowning in restless thoughts.
Albert taught us all to cherish warmth as we love deeply, play often, and enjoy each moment. He will live forever in our hearts.
In the winter Albert and I had enjoyed long hours in front of my woodstove. It hurt to think of building fires that winter without him bringing toys for me to throw and tug before settling down in my lap.
Albert taught us all to cherish warmth as we love deeply, play often, and enjoy each moment. He will live forever in our hearts.
Learning to get up each morning and go through my days missing his sweet kisses and tail-wagging joy while finding solace in our family’s love for one another helped me to believe we humans will manage to love our way through increasingly challenging times — when so much more will inevitably be lost — as we dream our way into a just and joyful tomorrow.
One morning a few weeks after we buried Albert, the sun warmed my face and soul more deeply than any light I’d felt for weeks. My bare feet caressed the dirt and stretched to feel my roots. Looking up at the charred patterns on the redwoods surrounding Albert’s resting place I remembered his dappled coat and found solace in the regenerative power of Nature.
Read more of my musings on Medium.