Mourning Musings

Ouch!! Nothing hurts the heart and soul, makes them scream and howl, more than the loss of a loved one. Death. Sucks. Ass. At least for those left behind.

I have been coping with the physical loss of our beloved spoiled heathen, Daisy. Pomeranians are full of sunshine, piss and vinegar, and more energy than a nursery school filled with toddlers. And loving!! Goodness, they love fiercely and are the most loyal tiny creatures. But Daisy Doodalee Dimitri broke the Pommy mold. The Universe birthed the Uber Pom when it sent Daisy into our realm. Girlfriend was wackadoo!!! She was super sassy, spazzy, bossy, and the best of all Pom traits on steroids. For years now, I have always thought of her whenever I hear the Stevie Wonder tune, “Isn’t She Lovely?”. There was never a dull moment with her.

Witnessing her decline literally made me sick. After she lost her vision, I developed an inflamed inner eye and wound up on the couch for almost 2 weeks. That was the beginning of the end. Our fab vet told us, “You never know when the last good day will be.” He got that shit straight fo’ sho’!!

Anyhooters, after nearly croaking on several occsasions, she did die in our arms, with her beloved vet and one of her favorite vet techs at our sides.

Oh, it has been so hard. So, so hard to wake up daily, and there is no fluffy red head next to mine. I come home, only to be greeted with silence. Her favorite nap spot was by the toilet, or by her baby gate, both locations that allowed her to come straight to me at the top of the stairs. Usually, her big mouth flapped boisterously in the breeze, telling me all about her excitement that I was finally home. No toenails hurriedly clickety-clacking on the kitchen floor as she trotted to snarf down her meals. No tiny dog tag singing its song as it smacked the side of the bowl as she ate. No one to run into the living room at top speed, jump on my tummy, and burp her dinner joyously into my face. I loved that. It always made me laugh so hard.

She was my best canine friend, my daughter, and my baby. And she left me almost 9 weeks ago. Some days, the pain will rise from my heart chakra so badly that I just have to stop and breathe to get through it.

Through it all, through all the tears, exhaustion, and fuzziness, I am profoundly grateful for every second I spent with her. I would never give up any of it to be spared this pain. She is worth getting my heart totally demolished for.

As I considered the process of grief one day, it hit me how much it is like an ocean wave. I can see it coming, there is no escaping it, and as it hits, it pulls me completely under, drowning me in excruciating pain. But just like the waves that knock me down in the water have always allowed me to come to the top, so does the grief. As the wave recedes, I gasp for air, overwhelmed with both the sorrow of her physical loss and the joy of having her, allowing myself to experience both. I don’t judge one as better than the other, trying to escape the pain. I realize joy and grief are two sides of the same coin as I move through the healing. I know I need time to sob, write about her, and do all the things that will help me heal to the point I can once again be a Pommy Mommy. I also know I need to laugh and have fun. So I do that too. All along, I honor my body and my heart, sleeping more when I need, crying, getting a hug from the spousal unit or a friend. The more I just let all this take its course, without any judgment, the sooner I will feel the load lighten permanently.

May you do the same with working through whatever is hurting you. Listen to your body and do what he or she asks. If you are unaware of what you need to do, sit quietly and ask your intuition. If that doesn’t work, just get up and do what feels best.

Grief. You can’t beat it, so you may as well join it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s