The Cloud

As I walked up to my classroom trailer, I saw a Praying Mantis on the rail of the porch-ramp thing.   I immediately texted Alec, trying to find out what it meant.  Some people said it was a good omen, others, a sign of death.

I used to have the voicemails from Lola's vets saved on my phone.  The ones that said she was cancer-free.  I saved them for years, just to reassure myself that she was okay.  In August, they were followed by one that said something was very wrong with Lola.  Sometime in the last two months, I deleted all of the messages.  I'm not sure when.  Things are just not in a linear order for me right now.  

During pre-planning, I dropped a framed picture I have of Alec and Lola that I keep at my desk.  Some bejeweled pieces fell off the frame.  I remember being horrified and tried to glue them back on.  Now I see it as an omen.  

"Okay, good people."  I announced, while handing out ring pops.
"Eat these now or put them in your pocket to save for home because, you know, we aren't really supposed to have candy in school."  

"Yeah, but we don't really follow the rules."  Albinus responded, a little blue-toothed smile on his face.  I burst out laughing.  It's true he has never really been much of a rule-follower.  

For the last few years, I have been growing big Mexican marigolds from seed.  They always seem to come into their full glory around the first of November, coinciding with Day of the Dead.   This year, one bloomed early.  It bloomed on the day that Lola died.  

My memories of Lola feel like sharp shards of glass.  Certain music makes me think of her, music that sounds like it's from outer space, music that sounds alienating.  And the little sharp shards cut really deep.  

I entered the classroom to pick up my second-graders while they were finishing some kind of spelling test.

"Use 'burn' in a sentence."  the teacher instructed.  

I glanced down at Adrien's paper.  

"Burn the house down."  was written on it.  

For such an angelic looking kid, I did like his contrary sensibility.  

There is a picture of Lola that I can't find.  It's a picture of her face when she first woke up one morning.  Her dog sitter took it, one of the few times we went out of town without her.  Lola was gazing at the dog sitter, her face full of love.  I can't find the picture anywhere, no matter how many times I search.  

We made an appointment with Lola's vet for Temple.  We thought it would be a good idea, just to make sure she hadn't missed anything she needed while in the shelter.  As the appointment grew closer, I realized I was dreading it.  By the afternoon of the appointment, I found myself sitting in my fourth graders' classroom, thinking about how much I did not want to go into that vet's office again.  The last time I was there, I took Lola from them to transfer her to the overnight animal hospital.  They thought it was just a precaution.  Hours later, the animal hospital told me she had end-stage lung cancer and offered to put her asleep.  I kept thinking Lola's vet would find something wrong with Temple.  In my mind's eye, I kept imagining the vet saying I'm sorry, Hilary.  This dog does not have long to live.  

I got near the end of my kindergarten read-aloud of "Lizzy and the Cloud".  Lizzy let the cloud go, she was trying to do the right thing, the cloud needed the sky, a big space to live in.  But when it rained, she missed him.  

"and if she every spotted a particularly fluffy cloud,"  I read.

"she would wave...."  

I realized my voice was catching in my throat.  I turned my head, trying to stop the tears I could tell were forming. 

"Just in case...."  I finished, crying.

Just in case it was him.  Just in case she might maybe see him one more time.