fbpx

Five days ago we said goodbye to our sweet 18-year old kitty, Daphne.

During her final weeks, it was hard to know what to do for her. Her liver and thyroid were not functioning and she couldn’t keep food or water down. I wanted her to pass away at home and told her many times that it was okay for her to go, and yet she kept hanging on. Struggling to breathe, skin and bones, starving and dehydrated. It was a terrible feeling, watching her struggle, yet knowing the body was going through its natural process to shut down. What could I do when there was nothing to be done but wait?

Reiki.

It was all I could think of. So I began delivering Reiki to her liver and respiratory system, and to her soul for a departure that would be peaceful and easy.

When I felt helpless and at a loss for what to do for her in that window between health and death, Reiki was there.

On particularly hard days, she would walk over to me and sit at my feet or come up onto my lap. I understood that she wanted more of that gentle loving energy. I delivered Reiki to her frequently over her last couple of weeks. 

In that language of understanding between us, Reiki was there.

Eight days ago, I knew we could no longer wait it out. It was asking too much of Daphne. I talked to my husband, my mom, my son, and we all agreed. And so I called the vet office and scheduled the appointment for euthanasia. And so began an immediate plunge into sorrow.

I sought out support from friends, asking them to hold space for us. I could feel love begin pouring in. I could feel Reiki in our whole home. 

In those mournful final days, Reiki was there.

On Saturday morning as my husband, son, Daphne, and I sat in the private room at the vet office spending our final moments together, I asked for Reiki to flow in and hold us all. I asked it to connect us to Love and to each other. I asked it again for a peaceful and easy transition for Daphne. And so it was. Her soul was finally able to let go.

In that final moment, Reiki was there.

We continue to grieve. We talk about her. We laugh. We cry. My son asked me if there would be an obituary for her, so I wrote one. He asked if there would be a will to distribute her belongings. “What will happen to her canned food?” he wondered. We agreed that she would want them to be donated, so we gave them to my friend’s non-profit that cares for feral cats in Beaverdale, Iowa.

It’s only been 5 days. Grief still washes over me out of the blue sometimes and seems to be lurking around the corner wherever I go. Other times I “come to” and realize I’ve been in a loop of sadness. I’ve been running Reiki on myself to move through the grief and still be able to cope, to focus and function when I need to.

It’s hard. This transition time into a new normal and missing someone you love. It’s hard. And Reiki is there.

One of the things that’s helping to balance things out, bringing me joy and excitement, is preparing for my upcoming Reiki class. The practice has been such a gift to my life in general, but I really see how useful and dependable it’s been these last couple of weeks. In my Level I class, I teach about Reiki for animals, and I realized this morning that when I do that, when I teach others how to use Reiki for their pets, I am honoring Daphne. When I remind people and encourage people to use Reiki for wildlife, I am honoring Daphne. Through spreading that ability to move energy that can bring comfort and peace to your pets and animals of all kinds, I honor the gift of her life, her soul, and our love. Wow. I can continue to honor my little golden girl by teaching Reiki.

Through this learning, through this connection of souls, through this loving service we can offer to Earth’s creatures, Reiki is there.