How Deep is Your Soulprint?

Fingerprints. Footprints. Pawprints.

Soulprints.

I first learned of the concept of a Soulprint a few years ago, thanks to the incredibly talented Martin Page. Martin and his manager, Diane Poncher, allow me to use Martin's music in my animal welfare projects. When Martin released his "In the Temple of the Muse" CD in 2012 and I first heard the song, "Soulprint," I knew I would try to use it some day. I just didn't know at the time that I would end up using it to honor a loss.

I think all of us want to make a difference in some way. All of us want to be remembered. Only some of us are truly able to change the world or society or even a community. Most of us do well to be good people who love our families and our friends, who work hard and who try to help others when we can. Also universal is the reality that the longer we live, the more precious time becomes as we lose those we love. Death is a part of life. I have my own beliefs about God and death and The Other Side which I don't force on anyone. Although I believe that there is an After, I feel incredibly strongly that we must all do our very best to be grateful for the time we have here and the time we share with the people we care about. It is easy to let ourselves assume that we will have X amount of time based on how long other people in our family lived or based on how hard we try to eat well, exercise and avoid bad habits. The truth is that no one is guaranteed any more time than today and we are well served to do our very best to treat each day as our last. 

Losing beloved animals over the years taught me about death at a young age. Losing my parents in a 6 month window of time to cancer taught me to leave no words of love, apology or advocacy unsaid and to do my very best to appreciate the blessings in my life. I have always been outspoken and I attribute part of that to my military background. Your tax dollars at work, I guess. Losing Snake put me on a path of animal welfare advocacy. Losing my parents simply honed my focus on my advocacy and allowed me to cast away some of my fears about what others think.

I've crossed paths with a lot of wonderful and passionate people over the years in my animal advocacy and we all lost an incredible person yesterday. Dana Kay Mattox Deutsch. I think I was just lucky to see the post about her passing in my Facebook feed. Had I not looked at the right moment, it may have been weeks before I heard the news. It took me a while to process. Surely she was not gone. I had just talked to her a couple of months ago and she sounded fine. I am told she had lung cancer even though she had never smoked, which is the case with many people. I am also told that it moved to her brain, as was the case with my dad back in 2010.

Dana. I first met her in 2004. I was working on some slide show to promote animal adoption and I ran across her photostream in Flick. I emailed her to ask if I could use some of her images and of course she said yes. I went on to use countless images of hers over the years. At one point I did a slide show specific to the shelter where she worked at the time. We used "Ordinary Moment," by Fisher, a song which has always held a special place in my heart since it was the first Fisher song I ever heard. We kept in touch when she moved on to her new job in North Chicago. I was kind of surprised that she had chosen to become an animal control officer. It is a hard and often thankless job in which you see a lot of neglect and tragedy. I knew from talking to Dana that she took an incredible amount of pride in her work. It was her life's passion. I could hear the energy in her voice each time we talked and I always felt empowered after speaking with her. When I later did a project for her about Ralphie (her beloved dog she rescued after Hurricane Katrina) I felt closer to her. I had seen so many images of him, and of all the animals she had helped for so many years, that I felt a tight bond with her.

We will never really know how many people Dana helped. How many animals she saved. The numbers are surely staggering and for that I am grateful.

Dana's Soulprint was, and is, deep. She is gone from this place far, far too soon. I am so very happy to call her friend. I am honored to have walked Life's Path with her for a while, even if from different physical locations. She was a kindred spirit and I have to believe her legacy will be strong as she inspires others to live with the type of passion she showed each and every day.

I read something yesterday to the effect that Dana will still making calls to try to place animals from her hospital bed in the days prior to her passing. I had to smile when I heard that. Of course she was.

I miss you, friend. I love you,  I will honor you as I move forward by using your images and remembering how very hard you worked each and every day to make a difference. How deeply you loved.

I feel your Soulprint, even though your light has gone. I feel your Soulprint on me.

(images courtesy of Dana Kay Mattox Deutsch; "Soulprint" courtesy of Martin Page)