Who I am.

I write about the landscape of grief, nature, and the wisdom of fools. The author of four books, my essays, poems, and reviews have been published in over 50 journals, including in the Huffington Post and Colorado Review. I’ve won the River Teeth Nonfiction Book Award, the Chautauqua and Literal Latte’s essay prizes, and my work has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes and named a notable by Best American Essays. My account of hiking in Yosemite to deal with my wife’s death, Mountains of Light, was published by the University of Nebraska Press. http://www.markliebenow.com.

Showing posts with label Hixson Nicole. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hixson Nicole. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Dora and Nicole


 Loving a pet changes us because animals have a nobility of spirit that draws out the best in us. They allow us into their lives, and ask only for love and respect. The bonds of devotion that form between pets and humans can be as profound and as deep as any relationship. And when our pets die, we grieve.

 

Nicole wrote recently about the death of her beloved dog Dora. She had lost Daisy, another dog, not long before, as well as a brother and an elderly cat. Her words are below. They are powerful and come from a heart that has been broken by death yet held up and enlarged by love.

 

When my wife Evelyn died, Nicole was the transplant coordinator who handled Ev’s organ donations. Nicole’s compassion was evident then, and she was one of the core people who helped me find my way through grief. Over the years, I have grown in admiration and awe of her love for all creatures, especially those who are suffering. Living a life of compassion is not easy on the heart. Dora was a rescue dog who had been mistreated, but she blossomed under the care of Nicole and Jeremy. 

 

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            On her last full day on earth, Dora and I sat under a tree the whole day, talking, watching the chickens, eating Fritos and other tasty things. I tried to explain (because she was really smart, like a small child) that in the morning, we would go see Dr. Enz. She would get very sleepy and when she woke up, she'd be at a new farm, with a young dog's body and nothing would ever hurt again. There would be no 1 greenie a day, or 2 bones per week limit there!! And she would never need any medicine again, especially the eye drops, which she really hated but dutifully lifted her sweet little face for twice a day when dad asked. I reminded her to look for a small white dog named Daisy, who would show her the ropes. She had her paw on top of my hand for most of it. I had the feeling she was trying to console me; she knew I was sad, and didn't like it. She slept a lot too, and I kept watch over her.

 

Friday, October 2, 2015

Compassion is a River


How do we kindle compassion for others? And how do we as ordinary people (as well as hospice workers, home caregivers, grief counselors, and palliative care people) prevent compassion burnout? 

A few of my thoughts published in Mindful Matter:  https://www.holstee.com/blogs/mindful-matter/54387205-compassion-is-a-river

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Compassion and Organ Donation: Nicole Hixson



I don’t know how people like Nicole do it.  
They show up when people’s lives are falling apart and emotions are thick. People are screaming and crying, pounding on the walls, and people like Nicole are able to calm the panic and begin the healing process. Nicole is an organ transplant coordinator who speaks to the family minutes after death because time is of the essence.


* If you would like to read the rest of this post, let me know and I’ll send it to you. *