It is a curious thing is grief. We think we've got a
handle on it, we think we know when it is appropriate and when it is not. We
think we can control it. And yet grief does not respect our thoughts &
wishes. Grief makes its way on its own terms. Grief follows its own path. Grief
is its own master and we can only follow along the way. How does one know
whether one grieves too long or too much? How does one tell whether it is
inappropriate or melodramatic? Who is to say?
Another curious thing
about grief is that it is entirely personal. One can't understand the grief
someone else feels in a given scenario. One can't judge it nor should they. For
it is indeed a bit of a solitary journey. And it is something that simply must
be worked through.
Five short days ago
my life was as it had always been. I had no warning. A sudden debilitating
illness took my best friend, my companion, my soulmate. I had premonitions that
her time would end soon, back in September. I didn't dwell upon it - one
doesn't I suppose. I simply had the odd moment where I wanted to be sure I was
ready. And that I would be ready to say goodbye.
Nothing could have
been farther from the reality that hit on Friday. I wasn't ready. I would never
have been ready. I could not possibly have been prepared for the gut-wrenching
loss of my dear Honey. It was as if my soul had been torn asunder and I lay bleeding,
gutted and in despair.
Now to some people,
this is a massive over-reaction. To some my sense of loss is excessive. But
those people do not understand. For as surely as she was "only a
dog", she was also a very special dog. The sort of dog that blesses the
lives of very few people. She had great empathy, a huge heart, feelings that
were easily hurt. She had a soul. Indeed to those who doubt, you could not
possibly deny that a living, breathing creature such as the likes of Honey had
a true soul. To look into the depths of her eyes, to know how well and truly
she loved; oh yes she had a soul. She had a soul indeed.
She brought great joy
into my life. She came to me as a companion when I needed one most. She helped
me through all sorts of life's journeys. She listened to my tears and shared my
laughter. And she gave me untold joys, in great & small ways. Her love of
life, her joie de vivre, was unequalled. She never did anything by half our
Honey. And she never gave up.
Maybe because I've
been afraid to love, I loved her best. Maybe because I knew she would not
betray me, I loved her best. Maybe because she loved me back as much, I loved
her best.
And when she knew her
time was up, she didn't fight or drag me through untold days of uncertainty and
sorrow. She didn't force me to make tough decisions and have to ponder choices.
She didn't waste away into a mere shell of what she had always been.
So forgive me for
dwelling. Forgive me for wallowing. Forgive me for taking a bit too long
perhaps to get over a mere dog. For she was all that I ever wanted to be
myself. I can only hope that one day I will be half the person I was in her
mind, in her eyes. And perhaps find someone else who will love me half as well
as she always did.
She left a piece of
herself inside me and I will never forget her.
I will see her again,
of that I am certain. For it seems impossible that there could be a place
called heaven where she will not be waiting for me. For when a spirit joins
with another as ours were joined, it is impossible that we will not spend an
eternity together when my time comes as well. And she was always patient - she
will wait however long it takes.
