Peaches died, you guys. She fucking DIED. She’s DEAD! My big, sweet, beautiful, awkward, terrified, clumsy, loyal, old dog is NOT HERE! She’s not anywhere; she’s just gone. Forever. Do you understand that?!
I will never, and I mean NEVER, get to see her or touch her again. I will never again get to press my forehead to hers, and kiss her snout, and laugh and pull away as she tries to return the gesture. I will never again grumble, and roll my eyes, when for the 9th time in the day she has jumped off my bed only to return to the side and growl at me to help her back up on it. I will never find myself coaxing her, almost pleading with her, to actually fucking WALK after she has been up my ass begging for a walk ever since I clocked out from my work computer in the dining area. She will never again wake me up from a sound sleep with her furious kicking and twitching in her sleep. I no longer have to look around for her before or after any loud noise is made, in order to apologize and convince her everything will be ok. I will never again get to witness her 12 year old (if not older) body turn into one of a young pup, with the zoomies, while I laugh outwardly, and inwardly hope she chills the fuck out before she hurts herself. I’m never going to see her rub up against the hedges along the walking path in our neighborhood, her fur sparsely polka-dotted with dry leaves and twigs that I’ll brush off before we go back into the house. I won’t have to hide Benedryl and Melatonin in cheese to give to her on New Year’s Eve and the 4th of July and any thunderstorm in between. I won’t get to put any of her favorite treats in her Christmas stocking this year. I won’t take any more videos of her snoring within an inch of my ear because she refuses to sleep at the foot of the bed like a normal damn dog.
There are just so. damn. many. never agains. And do you know why? Because Peaches DIED!
Yes, I realize this happened more than a month ago. Of course I realize that! I blogged about it then. But for some reason today, on several occasions, I’ve either said the words “since Peaches died” or I’ve only thought them in my head, but each time I’ve strung those words together they have shocked me, as if I’m telling myself brand new information.
The words sting, and so do the tears in my eyes that I’ve either held back, or, when alone, have allowed to trickle, and sometimes stream, down my cheeks.
I grieved her, with hot tears, for days after it happened, and with an aching and emptiness for a couple weeks. But, as always promised by others when you suffer any kind of loss, each day has been better than the last.
Except for today.
What is it about today that is causing me to miss her so goddamn much again? Why are the words “since Peaches died” hitting so hard today?
The truth is I actually think I know the reason for this, for this newfound grief over someone I thought I had already mourned. But I’m not ready to allow myself to express it at this time.
It is true that there is no set time table for grief and mourning and it absolutely will continue to ebb and flow. Hell, I still find myself, at times, missing my dogs that I lost many years ago.
This feels different, though. But perhaps it is because *I* am different than I was, even just a year ago.
I am much more prone to feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and depression than I’ve ever been. And that is something I attribute to the new trauma and the new drama that has encapsulated my life these last several months.
Without a shadow of a doubt, the last five months have been the absolute worst of my life. And even to myself, when I recall all of the events of those five months that have left me scarred, shattered, and shaking, I can admit that I’ve gotten off pretty lucky if those are the worst things that have ever happened to me in a such a short span of time.
I’ve never lost a child, never lost a parent, I’ve not lost my car, my job, a roof to live under, I am still surrounded by people who love and cherish me…I am so very fortunate and acutely aware of all that I still posess.
But here’s the thing….loss is loss; grief is grief; depression is depression; trauma is trauma.
Are there varying levels of each? Yes. Yes, I would say so. But in the end, and this is so very cliche, but true nonetheless, it just is what it is. It still has to be absorbed, sorted, and processed all the same.
I’m still in the absorbing phase. I’m just trying to take it all in, acknowledge it, and give it the credit it deserves in *my* life and no one else’s.
Among one of the items needing to really be acknowledged, that I have to allow to saturate my skin, sink into every pore, and seep into my blood: my beloved dog is dead.
“Before I lost Peaches…”
“After Peaches passed away…”
“Since Peaches died…”