Transforming trauma through love, courtesy of Laila
Can we transform someone’s trauma through love?
With so much happening in the world in this moment (wildfires, earthquakes, hurricanes and tornadoes, for starters) each of us is being invited to make a positive difference in the lives of others. We can give our money. We can give our labor. But can we really and truly transform someone’s trauma through giving our love?
If you’re asking this question, you didn’t know my Laila, my healer dog.
See this patch of lawn? It was three years ago when the paramedics pulled my neighbor’s lifeless body from his wife’s car onto this lawn. He’d had a heart attack before the car had left their driveway. The paramedics worked hard to revive him before loading him into the ambulance for a last trip to the hospital. I remember his wife gesturing to me to pray for him as the ambulance left. It was too late. He died young, leaving behind a wife and young daughter.
The lawn was littered with medical waste. Two of the neighbors stuffed the used needles, the discarded wrappings from medical supplies, and the other items into a garbage bag and thoughtfully removed it before the new widow came home. They didn’t know how to remove the energy of death. Those of us who were energy sensitive felt the heaviness, the trauma, the sadness in the ground. If you’ve ever visited a place where a person or multiple people died suddenly and unexpectedly felt death’s touch, you’ll know what I mean.
Laila took action. She pulled me to the lawn multiple times each day, lying on the exact spot where the paramedics worked to save my neighbor’s life. I think she was in the house, so I don’t remember her seeing the paramedics working. Trust me on this, pulling me to the lawn each day was all her idea. She was built to pull cargo, and I was still weakened from the stroke I’d experienced two years earlier. If she really wanted to go somewhere, I learned early on that it was a lot easier for me to follow her. I let her stay there until she was done. She knew what she was doing.
Day by day, by lying on the exact spot where the paramedics had worked in vain to save my neighbor’s life, Laila pulled more and more death from the lawn. It was an act of transforming trauma through love. The widow noticed her frequent visits, felt the difference in the lawn, and thanked me for all Laila did in restoring the grass to its previous peace. Laila stopped her work when the lawn felt good to her. We all agreed she was done, not that she needed our input.
Laila also pulled me to their house to spend time with them. She walked in like she owned the place. She inspected their floor for stray food crumbs (their dog had already done her own inspection, but Laila was ever dedicated). She allowed the mother and daughter to draw strength from her. She may have been a shy rescue dog when she came into my life, but she’d learned how to be the life of the party. Her terminal cancer diagnosis the previous year got us into the world, the two of us walking up to strangers, asking them to pray for her, bless her, or affirm her as being completely healed. It was easy for her to make condolence calls.
The widow and her daughter had prayed for Laila and felt a strong connection with her. They rejoiced with me when we got our miracle and the cancer went away. They loved her visits. Laila brought joy and life into their house and energized their young dog as she comforted her people. Laila’s loving presence supported the young daughter and her mother as they slowly learned how to live alone.
Laila and I spent a lot of time with the young daughter. I’d also lost my father early, my family was more concerned about my mother’s fragility than mine, and I fell through the cracks. I didn’t want that to happen to her. I gave the daughter the love and support I didn’t receive as she moved through her grieving and adjusting to a very different new life. Laila, loving being that she was, knew that simply showing up to remind the daughter and mother that love still surrounded them was all that was needed.
The last time Laila dragged me into their house, she inspected the floor and their dog’s food dish for stray crumbs. She drank a little water from their dog’s water dish. She rested for a moment in their dog’s bed and rummaged through her toy box for a toy. She only used stuffed toys as chin rests. When she couldn’t find a suitable chin rest, she walked and out of their dog’s crate. She never used her own crate at home. We all laughed.
I knew she was nearing the end, but I didn’t realize she’d be gone in less than 24 hours. It was only after we walked back into our home that she started banging into lamps, relieving herself on the carpet, and showing other signs that her brave journey was nearing its end. I realized after she passed that, even though her body was failing her, she wanted to leave all of us laughing.
As Laila had comforted them during the previous nine months, my neighbors comforted me after I came home alone from the vet’s office. They hugged me and cried with me, grieving her passing as if she’d been their dog. When I settled “Laila’s estate,” I gave their dog one of Laila’s chin rest toys, a stuffed Canadian goose. Their dog played with it for a few weeks, then let it go. Well over a year after Laila’s death, I visited their house. Their dog pulled the goose from the bottom of her toy box and played with it in front of me, showing me she still remembered whose toy it had been.
Their dog’s disbursement from “Laila’s estate”
Three years after his death and two years after Laila’s death, the three of us are still dear friends. Call it Laila’s legacy. We recently celebrated the widow’s birthday with an afternoon tea, and I’ve been introducing my friends to the daughter. They’re in love with her. One of my friends gave the daughter two carefully selected crystals to help her feel supported as she begins this school year at a new school.
Both the mother and the daughter are beautiful examples of transforming trauma through love.
So many of us do nothing during times when our friends, family or neighbors are faced with sudden trauma or tragedy. We say we don’t have the money. We say we don’t have the words. We say we don’t have the time. We say others will certainly be there in our absence.
Let Laila’s actions be your guide. Please do something. You might be amazed at all you receive in return.
Laila and Me in May of 2013. Photo by Service1stGraphics
Can I help you get back to living? Laila taught me well. If reading this post resonates with you, perhaps we are a professional match for each other. I invite you to contact me at love@transformingthroughlove.com to arrange a free 30 minute, no obligation consult. Blessings and peace to you, and stay safe.
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