Our beliefs about what happens to souls after they pass from this life can be a great source of comfort when we lose someone, furry or human. Anyone who has loved an animal knows The Legend of the Rainbow Bridge.
“Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to the Rainbow Bridge.” It is an idyllic place, where furry friends are restored and healed, and can run and play while they wait for their human. When that special person passes away, the furry pal meets them, and together they cross the Rainbow Bridge to heaven.
It is lovely imagery and beautifully written, and like all pet parents, I received bookmarks, cards and notes with this passage after Murdock departed. But here is the thing – it is not what I believe. Perhaps that is sacrilege, given it’s popularity.
It is the first five words that are problematic for me: “Just this side of Heaven.” I have a Christian background, so the idea of heaven is my vision of the afterlife. I may not be certain of what “gets” a soul to heaven – but I know that Murdock is “there”. I don’t have a clue what heaven is like – a place, a state of being, or some other form that my humanness prevents me from imagining. But, I know that my boy took the express lane to whatever heaven is, that evening he laid his head in my lap and took his last breath. Our furry friends spend their too-short time with us making our lives infinitely better. We become better humans because of them. If that is not deserving of heaven, I don’t know what is.
This is not meant to criticize The Rainbow Bridge. I had read the passage many times before I lost Murdock, and found it beautiful. But when I read it again after his departure, it took on a different meaning, a more real meaning, maybe, and I was surprised to find that it did not comfort me, it did not fit with what I believe.
Whether it’s the Rainbow Bridge or something else, our visions about the afterlife are as unique as the lives we shared with our furry soulmates and the grief experiences that follow their loss. Perhaps, unknowingly, we craft these beliefs in order to prepare us for the grief that is inescapable in life and to give us hope for the time when we lose a soulmate and feel all is lost.
As for me, I choose to believe that Murdock is in heaven, eating ice cream with my grandma, dancing for chicken nuggets, and running through streams and forests, letting his nose lead the way. And at the same time, he is right here, right next to me, always.
