Don’t Cry For Me


I like to sing. I’ve become quite good over the years, at least my captive audience of four can attest to that. And the songs are utterly random. Anything from “Who let the dogs out” to something from my childhood, or Justin B’s latest jingle that just begs for expression or is that suppression? And teatime is when the songs get sung as the dogs sit, albeit begrudgingly, waiting for their supper, while the cats continue to fight for world dominance, unmoved by my dulcet tones and infusion of Irish jig moves – once more from a long ago but not forgotten childhood.

Last night was no different. The song came into my mind just like a gust of wind comes round the corner. So I opened my mouth and started singing “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina”. The dogs dug deep into their assigned beds, knowing that dinner wouldn’t be too far behind. The song sprang up from the depths of my being like an old friend and after singing it a few times I began to play all the different versions of it on my computer, listening to the words, the vibration of the song that just filled our home with warmth and more love, infused with a soft, sweet energy of compassion and grace. After about an hour dinner was served and the music was tucked away for the night, as indeed we were shortly thereafter.

The next day I had an appointment with a wonderful dog called Gordo and his person, Miriam. Gordo is a senior boy who is moving with grace and dignity into the final phase of his life. Miriam is the person who has journeyed almost 16 years with him on this physical plane. They were in need of some support and I was the person who was more than honored to be part of their journey and help in any way I could. I’ve been doing this work for ten years now and there is never a moment, not even a second when I am not in awe of the perfection of spirit to connect us when we need it. So being a vessel for all things good, I jumped in my car and off I popped – listening I might add to Justin B’s new song.

As I walked into Miriam and Gordo’s home I was greeted by a wave of love that washed over me like a silent cloak of peace. And even though Gordo’s body was failing him, his spirit was everywhere and despite his decreased level of energy, Miriam helped him get up as we connected and in no uncertain terms he said thank you. And in no uncertain terms I said thank you right back.

Gordo is a skinny lad, tall with white fur and random black spots – a type of medium haired, disarming, Dalmatian mix. His presence was still strong and watchful, as Miriam with her long flowing brown curls and deep concern for his well being shared her fears and concerns about his care and life after Gordo. As we talked my eyes were drawn to a poster on the wall of “Evita – The Musical”. How wonderful, maybe she likes musicals I thought. But as our conversation continued, Miriam shared that she was the choreographer for a musical in San Diego called “Evita” and she had also choreographed “Evita” in New Zealand too. She then brought out a book to show me some of her work, her pictures and her life and it was then I made the connection, as a sprinkling of goose bumps informed me what I already knew, there are no mistakes in God’s world.

Singing “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” the night before now was no longer a mystery to me, not that there’s a mystery to be solved to be honest. Nonetheless, I told Miriam the story and we both rested into the arms of truth, and that truth is that we are all connected, there is no separation and we are never, ever alone.

To Miriam and Gordo, I thank you for allowing me into your home, into your life and the opportunity to honor this part of your journey in any way I can. And as I walked to my car, settling into the aftermath of the design of nature and the perfection of all things, I thanked Spirit for knocking on the door of my heart many years ago when I said goodbye to my beloved cat Fiona, as it whispered “you will get through this and you will help others do the same.” And in no uncertain terms I said thank you as I broke out into song once more on the drive home.