Bibi and Borpenyang

Yesterday was a hard day. One of my hardest this semester (such a good opening line when ending my 2-month blog silence, eh?).  Yesterday we lost our dog Bibi. I hadn't even announced her presence to the cyber world. I guess I was waiting til I bought my own laptop.

Anyway, wanted to share an excerpt from my journal yesterday.  Sorry, I think I sound a little bit like those animal lovers I used to secretly laugh at... Oh well.


I'm sitting on the swing in the yard. Bibi used to come with me when I'd sit here. She never will again.

Bibi died this morning. Her young life cut short by a van on Dong Dok Road. She was naughty, noisy and bit all of our shoes, but I loved that dog. She was ours. Bought with two bags of MSG. My first dog on my own. From the minute I saw her walking down the road with Nouy toward our house, she grabbed my heart - no small feat for this self-proclaimed dog-hater. But I loved Bibi - even when she was getting spanked she was so cute. I loved playing with her in the yard.


She didn't even get to eat the big bones Jess brought over for her. At first I was saving them for her for Christmas.  We used to give our dogs a big bone like that every Christmas. But last night I decided to give her one, but couldn't remember where there were (that's par for the course in this house!)

Now it's too late.


Almost immediately after Sone brought Bibi's limp body back to our house, the Lao's favorite word "borpenyang" (translated many ways in English - "never mind," "it's ok," "it's not a problem," etc) was being sad. In my tears I said, "It's not borpenyang," thinking can't I just grieve this? My heart doesn't feel borpenyang. Bibi's not borpenyang. Her spunky self stilled by the tires of that van.


Can't something just for once not be borpenyang?!


I think that's what I love most about Nouy (Sone's little sis) - she feels and she feels deeply and she lets herself feel. That's not really typical here. She and I were sobbing over Bibi's body together today.


I think maybe this is hitting me harder because in a place where you have no roots, no official family, a dog is a symbol of sorts - a symbol of "a real family," of having a real home, establishing roots, longevity. And when you have so little of that already, and suddenly part of what little you have is snatched away it feels devastating.

It's not just the loss of a spunky kidu (Lao for naughty) ball of joy, though that would be hard enough. It's the loss of an idea, a security, a symbol to a soul that longs for the security of home. Bibi made our house chaotic, messier and livelier. But she made it feel like a real home (minus the whole picket fence idea, of course. She probably would've chewed that anyway).

After losing my computer back in October, Nouy brought Bibi home (she was to be our fearless guard dog). Then we lost Bibi the next day (we were all a little new at the taking care of a dog thing). As I lifted up our loses and begged the Father for restoration, I realized I'd rather have Bibi back than the laptop (sometimes I questioned that  after she bit my shoes!!). And for the 2 days we scoured the neighborhood and put up flyers, I wrestled with why He couldn't just bring her back. The age-old question of why the Powerful One who can do anything doesn't seem to respond to my petitions even though I know it'd be so easy for Him to do.

The day we spotted Bibi was a day of great joy and I feel like the Father spoke to my heart how He does hear and He does care, but like the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter, He often lets us sit with the angst so we see Him in the journey. Bibi became a constant reminder to me of The Father's care, His listening ear in spite of the seemingly insignificance of our request. 

Now that reminder's gone. Though, yes, my head knows the theological response that I've got 66 chapters of reminders resting on my courch right now. I'm just not there yet. And, I think that's ok, because our Father is so patient and gentle - He taught me that through Bibi.


No matter how small the loss, we need to grieve. So, I'm grieving the loss of sweet Bibi.


And just for today, I want that to be "borpenyang".