alaskan malamute

Six Funerals and a Wedding

Two years ago, although occasionally mired by a rainstorm or two, our life was pretty much rainbows and puppies, sunshine and ice cream. I’m not going to lie, we had it good.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Couple photo

A Sunday kind of love.

 

I had somehow happened upon the life of my life, despite being tucked in the woods as he was, and we fit together seamlessly. I felt like the knight who had rescued Rapunzel (or however that went) and off we had ridden into the sunset.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Christopher's Kingdom Sunset

Olive grove sunset

 

And then the sun didn’t come up.

Two years ago in August, we lost our dog Cinda Lou in a terrible, and preventable accident.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Cinda Lou's Kingdom

Cinda’s Kingdom

 

Eight months later, the Chief’s mother died suddenly in a car accident the day before his 40th birthday.

 

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Family portrait

Donna, Chris, The Chief & Mychal

 

Less than two weeks later, his grandmother Jane passed.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Grandma Jane

Sweet Jane.

 

A few months later on a cold morning this Winter, I received a call that my godmother Ellen had passed away suddenly. She had gone in for routine surgery and never come out. She was a beautiful jeweler and we were designing the wedding rings she was going to make for us. Suddenly, she was gone. The news hit me so hard it took my breath away. I sat there catatonic as a meeting for work started. I just stared forward, numb.

Times were dark. It felt as if the world had closed itself off to us, as if we’d hit our limit on happiness. We had been so lucky. Maybe too lucky.

We waded through the pain and stumbled as we reached its new depths. We tried to hold one another close but felt alone. We fought endlessly, our anger at the world had nowhere to go in a tiny wintry cabin and so it found its way towards one another. Still, we remembered how it once was.

And then, a ray of sunlight.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, The sun will come out

Sunshine morning on the olive ranch

 

Somehow, almost suddenly, The Chief and I came together again. The anger lifted. We softened. I hadn’t realized how far we’d gotten from one another, how cold our new normal was. Grief has a way of sneaking you away from yourself, away from your loves without your even realizing. It leaves you alone.

Yet we could finally see we weren’t alone. Our sun was back. We cuddled again, sat entwined on the couch again, lingered in one another’s embrace again. The sadness was still there but for the first time it wasn’t blinding, we could see past it. We could find the beauty in what remained and the excitement for what was coming.

 

 

 

 

 

The Chief’s dad, Christopher was part of that beauty. We grew very close in the month and a half we spent together in California after Donna and Jane’s passing. His consistency made me feel so safe in a time where it felt like our world was collapsing and again he was there when Ellen died and it felt ready to collapse again. Despite the immense pain he felt in the losses, he always found a way to be kind. When issues would arise or plans would change he would simply, softly say “Ok, dear” in a way that made my hardening heart melt ever so slightly. He was a steady port in the storm and I clung to him.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Christopher's Kingdom

Christopher’s Kingdom

 

Two months ago, he died of a heart attack.

The anniversaries of Donna and Jane’s passing had hit us hard in the week leading up to his death. One year gone already. Gently, we navigated through the reminders, trying to remember the good instead of fall deeply into the pit of sadness. Two days after Jane’s passing anniversary (which also happened to be her birthday and Cinda’s birthday) the call came.

The man who had become a beacon of hope for our newly blossoming family, who had tied us all together when the seams started to fray was gone.

He was a man full of surprises. As an ex-military man, full of discipline and prestige, I was intimidated by him at first. I would set alarms just to make sure I woke up “early enough” because I feared he’d think me lazy if I slept in. When I did manage to get up, the payoff was wonderful as I’d get to accompany him on his walks. Every day he walked the property to check on his thousands of olive trees and despite his love of solitude, he welcomed my presence to become part of his norm too.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Take a walk

One of many family walks in the orchards.

 

He was methodical and principled and repetitious to a T but just when I’d think I had him pegged, he would surprise me again. He would send me random texts to say “Hi” or “What’s your weather like today?” with a picture of a bluebird morning at the farm. I once received a text from him with a picture of himself, sweaty as can be, in front of a hot yoga business. Since it was pouring rain, he couldn’t be outside and get his exercise and so, he tried something new. I loved that about him. He didn’t care what anyone thought, he didn’t have to stay put in any idea others had about him. He was his own person, through and through and I will forever wish he were with us still.

Despite his ashes in our living room, his death still feels unreal. I still expect a text from him to remind me not to worry, that he will do all the cooking at the wedding and to offer other help I didn’t know I needed. I still wait for a call to randomly check in and tell us he loves us.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Christopher

C.E.K.

 

These days, the simple ringing of a telephone strikes fear in my heart. I feel fear constantly and picture death and destruction in even the safest situation. I fear for the family and friends I have, for our Leto, for The Chief, for myself. I fear for the worst for I know it’s face, I’ve stared right into it’s eyes and still it doesn’t back down.

Yesterday, the phone rang again, this time to tell me that my grandmother Gam had died.

I had just worked up the nerve to tell of the loss of my father-in-law, to write about him here, to tell his story and what he meant to me. I was not prepared to write two obituaries. It feels odd and unseemly to group two of the most important people in my life into one post, yet they are interwoven, all of our losses are.

My Gam is the reason I feel comfortable calling myself a writer at all, and only because she called me one first. She was the person I was most afraid to tell I was moving to Alaska because I was afraid she’d think I failed her. I was so wrong. She beamed at my choice, prized my passion and applauded my leap of faith. She once told me that if I loved The Chief, I had to love all of him. I hadn’t realized that this was how she had loved me, all along. She was smart as a whip, did the crosswords every day and could hold a conversation with anyone. She was an avid reader, a teacher, a lover of art and nature and jazz and a constant help to those in need. She stood up for herself in a time when women were expected to be quiet and continued that strength until she passed. When she had had enough of you, she would tell you “I’m ready for you to go”. She adored The Chief. He was the only man I ever brought to meet her about which she said “I like him”, with a special emphasis only she could put on “like”. I can hear her say it now. That was a very high regard. She gave us her blessing and when she found out The Chief was planning to propose, she immediately offered him her wedding ring. I wear it now and forever.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Grandma Jeanne and us

Giving her blessing. Don’t mind the black eye, apparently it runs in the family.

 

I adored her. She was a force to be reckoned with and I will deeply miss her.

I hope, ever so much that these are the last obituaries I write for a very long time and that instead this place holds happiness in its tales of the Last Frontier. I hope with all my might that a phone ringing won’t always make my heartbeat quicken and that in every way I won’t always fear for the worst. I hope The Chief and I can continue in kindness and gentleness and hold tightly to the even keel we once had and that our wedding in September can move us forward, together in love and lightness. I hope our ancestors gather around us to celebrate in spirit. We love you.

I wish for you that you and yours are safe and sound.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Giant Dandelion Wish

A giant wish.

 

With love,

 

from Alaska and a couple of hand holding, “don’t embarrass me, Mom” pups to make you smile.

 

Beneath the Borealis 7-8-19, Six Funerals and a Wedding, Husky and Malamute holding hands

Best friends caught in action.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Fairbanks, Alaskan Malamute

The Fluff, Part II

Our lucky stars aligned.

Our little one made it.

The Fluff is home.

After a week of wishing and hoping and living my life in a permanent state of superstitious paranoia, our little Fluff gave us the green light. The Chief and I immediately started simultaneously laughing and crying at the breaking of the good news.

Good news.

We couldn’t believe it.

My heart leaped at this happiness, hungry to not feel heavy, lunging for lightness.

Thank you to every one of you who thought good thoughts and wished on stars and didn’t step on cracks and pretty pleased their way with us into the universe’s good graces for our little beast. He and we are forever grateful.

As soon as we heard that he was ok, I wanted him with us. He’d been our little man since the day I laid eyes on him and not being with him through it all had been a new kind of parental torture I’d yet to experience (yes, I refer to myself as a dog parent, I know it’s not the same as kids…but is it?). We were beyond ready for him to be home.

Home, however, was 370 miles away from where he was. Fairbanks, AK, where their deep winter temperatures laugh at ours by comparison (60 below, anyone?). Despite having just been gone the week before, my boss understood that I needed to get to my little beast. “You bring that pup home, Julia,” he told me. Lucky, once again.

The morning of the trip I had umpteen things to get done before departure and about one million to get done once I got there with an 8-ish hour drive in between.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Fairbanks, Alaska

Fluffs.

 

After the events of the week, the up and down rigmarole of emotions, I was grateful for the solitude of a long drive through open country. The drive is less of the curlicue mountainous route that we are used to when heading to Anchorage. It’s more like the plains in the Midwest, wide and big and open and insanely gorgeous. I listened to tunes and podcasts and silence, letting the reality hit me that in the morning, I would have a partner in crime with me. I cried tears of joy more times than I can count.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19, North Pole, AK

North Pole, AK. Santa Claus is coming to town.

 

That night, I arrived around 7pm to…ice cream.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Caribou Caramel Alaskan Ice Cream

Caribou Caramel. ‘Nuff said.

 

Ice cream, people!

This may not seem like a big deal, it may even seem like, “Why don’t you have ice cream? It’s cold there all the time!” Yet, with the early Spring we’ve had, bringing back ice cream minus the purchase of dry ice is not really an option. So, when the hotel concierge greeted me and alerted me to the complimentary Ice Cream Happy Hour, this girl was elated.

Still, there was no time to bask in the melty goodness. I dropped my bags and picked up my scoop (Caribou Caramel, yes please!) and headed to a store I’ve had zero reasons to frequent lately but have dreamed about going to:

The pet store.

I

Love

Pet

Stores.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19, Fairbanks Pets

Option overwhelm.

 

I love them so much that I had to get kicked out of this one. It was announced on the loudspeaker that the store was closed and could the person in the store please bring her purchases up to the front.

Whoops!

The musher we were getting him from, Aaron, had given me a particular recipe for fat and protein, phosphorous and calcium content for his food and I was having a helluva (as my Mom says) Goldilocks experience. Too little fat but enough protein. All the above but no phosphorous. What even is phosphorous?! Waist deep in 50 lb. bags, I sheepishly asked if I could have a little help. The crew kindly helped me sort through and find what we needed and I thanked them and apologized for my tardy departure. Packed to the gills with all things puppy, I made my way back to the hotel to eat before the restaurant closed. It was already 9:30.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Fairbanks, AK Love Alaska

Love Alaska? We do.

 

Since, apparently, the grocery store closes at 11 pm I wouldn’t be able to shop that night (for which I was grateful, honestly, even though it meant the morning would be a push. I was completely pooped still from my trip the week before). I drew a bath (heaven!) and read up on raising a puppy. It’s been a while.

I fell into (the huge) bed.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Fairbanks, Alaska Pike's Landing

King size me, please!

 

The next morning, my heart was pounding to the drumbeat of “get it done and get it done fast!” By 8 am I had exercised, went grocery shopping, checked our oil, worked and started our laundry. Two work meetings to go and I could go get our little dude.

At the strike of 11 am I folded our laundry faster than I knew I could and ran to the truck. There was an atm (to get the remaining balance for the pup) and a coffee hut (Alaska is chock-full of these drive-up little huts. I’m a huge fan) right next to one another. Score! Two chores, one stop.

Nope.

I was meeting Aaron at 11:30 across town. It was 11:15 and the atm was telling me “No way, girl”.

What?!

It turns out that I had forgotten to activate my new card (since I never use it) and thus, it was invalid. Thankfully, after a call to my bank, I found that there was a supported branch on the way to our meeting spot. I made every attempt to guess my account number with complete failure and then was shown some good old-fashioned Alaskan kindness as she withdrew the money despite my lack of clarity (don’t worry, I had jumped through quite the many identifying hoops already). Aaron called me back and suggested we make it noon and not to worry.

At 2 minutes to noon, I pulled into what I thought might be the meeting spot (his directions had been vague: a bank near Fred Meyers) and immediately knew it was right.

In the back of a minivan in a little kennel filled with hay lay our little dude. He was a little shy and a little sleepy, nuzzling into the arms of his first Papa. Almost an hour later, after I had asked him probably every question known to man about Parvo and puppies and mushing, oh my, we parted ways. Though not before a USPS woman stopped because she “just had to see the cute little thing” and show us pictures of her pup who ended up actually being a cousin of ours. Small world, eh?

Our little guy and I got into the truck and took it slow. I let him sniff about and explore his new world and his Mama.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Fairbanks, Alaska Malamute

First quick cuddle nap.

 

An hour or so later, we decided we were good enough friends to get going.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Fairbanks, Alaskan Malamute

I can’t handle the cuteness.

 

It was 2 pm and we had an 8-hour drive ahead of us.

Right?

Well, sort of.

We did have an 8-hour drive, however, the 8 hours it normally would take us stretched into an epic 13. We were bonding. Every little bit or so, we would stop for food and drink and to see if he needed to pee. It took 4 hours just for him to feel safe getting out of the kennel out into the big world in front of him. Yet, despite his not wanting to leave his kennel yet, he never once had an accident. He mainly slept with his paws touching my leg through the grate. I waited for the motion sickness I’d anticipated to kick in but it never came.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II, 04-22-19, Malamute pup and me

The bestest fluff.

 

6 hours in, realizing I hadn’t really eaten that day, we got out (he was a pro now) to grab a snack. As I ate and drank, he ate and drank and then…

he cried.

Aaron had warned me that the separation might be tough, especially after all that he’d gone through.

He gave me a little howl that I tried to take very seriously, despite its utter cuteness. I comforted him but something told me to put him on the ground as well. There, he peed.

An hour or so later, he gave me a few sad cries again.

Uh oh. He’s missing home.

I pulled over and out he jumped. This time, to make a poop. I diligently sanitized the spot, digging up the ground and anything around it and then we were off again.

A few hours later, 20 miles from home, his howls started again, this time more frequent. Eyes heavier and heavier as the night wore on, I stopped repeatedly and let him out to do his bodily business but alas, none was to be done.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19 Fairbanks, Alaska Caribou Crossing

Caribou crossing. Hoooey! The wildlife was out that night. We saw about 6 Caribou, 10 Moose, one million Snowshoe Hares, and one Lynx.

 

At the onset of the next howl-fest, I stopped and opened his cage. He jumped into my lap and nuzzled into my arms. He had just needed some Mom time. My heart melted like the Caribou Caramel.

10 miles later, full-up on Mom time, he put himself back in the kennel and buckled up for the rest of the ride. We were almost home.

Around 3 am we arrived to a sleepy Chief and a once again shy pup. It was all so new. We brought his crate upstairs and left the gate open and just as I was about to crawl into bed, he came out for some belly rubs and kisses (with puppy breath!). We were home.

The last few days have been a total whirlwind of utter joy. I can’t believe that a week ago this little guy was fighting for his life. He is a tough little beast and I can’t believe we get to be his parents. He is sweet and funny and prone to face planting at any moment

 

 

 

He pitter-patters back and forth after me around the house and comes (sometimes) when called. He knows not to bite and also knows that he prefers to do it anyways, though just after nap time, those nibbles are gentle and full of licks (with puppy breath!).

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II, 04-22-19, Malamute pup and The Chief

Thanks for the Lamb Chop, Auntie E!

 

The little one, so far, sleeps through the night and then gently gives us a yip warning when he wakes up around 6 am that he has to pee. He’s my favorite alarm clock. He is a huge fan of belly rubs and not a huge fan of baths but he tolerates them (as long as Mom gets soaked too. Mission accomplished).

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19, Malamute puppy bath time

That face.

 

He is everything we dreamed of. I think even our Cinda Lou would approve.

In addition to all of this happiness, there also has been a seriousness, even after he made it through Parvo because of what having had Parvo means. It means he’s contagious until he’s “shed” the virus. Different sources say different amounts of time but most say it takes about 10-14 days to “shed” (read: poop out) the virus. Every time he poops, we bag it and the surrounding area up into a baggie and let loose a barrage of bleach (which makes my Mother Nature loving heart hurt but is trumped by my Dog Loving heart. We are waiting for a non-toxic and even more efficient vet-used product but, of course, they wouldn’t ship to Alaska so bleach it is until my Mama can ship it to us). We’ve quarantined him from other dogs and encourage those around us to reach out if they have any questions.

The following sites, plus discussions with breeders and many different veterinarians have been very helpful, however, I suggest you speak to your veterinarian to decide upon your specific pet’s needs and again, reach out to us with any questions, etc. We are doing everything we can to ensure the safety of our beloved pup residents. Dogs under a year, unvaccinated dogs, or dogs that are immune compromised are the groups most at risk. Still, the research we’ve done suggests that a yearly Parvo booster can’t hurt. Parvo is prolific and lives for up to a year in the soil (which is why we dig up the area he poops in and bleach it). While it is very unlikely that dogs outside of the at-risk groups (and unlikely in the at-risk groups, except with puppies who have not had their full round of Parvo shots) will contract Parvo ever (they likely have already been exposed since it is everywhere and their bodies fought it off) there’s no reason not to take extra precautions. We are keeping him well bathed and groomed and will be doing a full overhaul once he has fully shed the virus to rid our home of it (read: lots of bleach, lots of, unfortunately, things going into the garbage or if burnable, burned). It’s easy to panic in this information so again, we ask that you talk with your vet and, if you like, talk with us. We are open books and will be happy to further explain all of the precautions we and anyone in contact with him are taking.

Helpful sites:

American Kennel Club on Parvo

VCA on Parvo

Aside from the Parvo mania we find ourselves in, we also find ourselves deeply in love with the goodness that has graced us and are trying to focus on how lucky he has been, how hard he fought and how dang cute he is.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II 04-22-19, Alaskan Malamute

Hello, world!

 

Thank you, again, from the deepest depth of our hearts for all of your well wishes. We felt your love and we can’t wait to share our new little love with you (when you’re ready).

Best wishes and happy, healthy thoughts to you and yours.

With love,

from The Scribe, The Chief, The Pup (to be named) and Alaska.

 

Beneath the Borealis The Fluff Part II, 04-22-19, Fairbanks

You beauty, you.