The hardest part about loss is the constant reminder that something is gone. The little moments that didn’t used to mean much, but now leave a dark empty hole where they used to be. Little memories create stabbing pains. Like little flashbacks, then the teasing little hurt that comes after reminds you there is now an empty space.
Nothing really helps. Nothing really makes this feeling go away. Distractions ease the pain for a minute, but it always comes back. At least that’s how this is going for me. Start to sleep, wake up and realize it’s not a dream. This really did happen, and the pain isn’t fake. The loss is real. I wish it wasn’t. I wish I could turn back the clock and enjoy the little moments again because someday they will be gone.
Distractions do take my mind of off the suffering for a little while, and I try to do all my favorite things. Watching shows, working, video games, snuggling my dogs, being outside, and enjoying friends’ company only helps for a while until I realize this is real again. The only thing I need is time. I don’t really want to do much of anything. Cuddled up here with my dogs, staring off into space is honestly all I want. I don’t need chocolate or conversation, just company. Seems my dogs all know that. They can’t make the pain go away, but they know I need them to just be here. They’ll lay with me all day without complaint. They won’t try to push to talk about it. I don’t feel like a very good leader for my dogs this week. I can’t be a leader for them right now, I need them to make some good decisions for themselves right now.
Time seems to be moving faster than me. Where did the week go? Last I remember, I was talking about if the prednisone was working.
If I needed to start thinking about options for Napoleon.
If we were at that point yet.
Then, he declined rapidly. I watched as he started to lose his motor function. The light in his eyes went out, and he was telling it was time. He started having accidents in the house. He couldn’t hold his weight sometimes when he was just standing.
Then, he was gone. He was just gone.
Napoleon was a special dog for a lot of people, and I really love that everyone who knew him got a chance to see how special he was. He shared his happiness with the world, helped me through hard times, helped me teach other dogs, and helped clients learn some new techniques as well. It makes me happy to know so many loved and cherished him like I did.
The hardest part about loss is the reminders. I can’t stop thinking about it. My soul has a dark, empty space. There isn’t emotion there. No anger or sadness. Literally, that piece of my soul feels like it died. A little piece of my soul went with Napoleon. He left a little piece of his soul with me, but also took a little piece of mine.
I will heal. With time. But time has to slow down for me to catch up. I feel like it’s moving too fast, and I can’t keep up. I just want to lay here with my dogs until I feel better. Do absolutely nothing until my soul has started to heal. I’m trying to be happy and live, because that’s what he would have wanted. He was a very happy dog.
My heart and my soul hurt so much. But I will heal. I got this….