There was no blog last Friday because I was simply overwhelmed with grief. It was the one year anniversary of our dog Daisy’s passing. At times, I do quite well without her in her physical body. Other times, I really am not worth a shit. Friday was one of the “not worth a shit” days.
Daisy was truly my best friend, teacher and offspring all rolled into one feisty, yappy, four-legged pumpkin head of a pooch. The Universe broke the mold when it brought forth Doodalee Dimitri. She was every Pomeranian characteristic on steroids. And I was BANANAS about her! Her daddy was too. Despite her, uh, unpleasant quirks at times, she won his heart over to the breed. Jim had never considered himself a small dog person, but he is now!
Like every other mammal, Daisy had to leave her body. Since I am an animal communicator, I was able to let her choose how long she would remain in her body and tell me exactly when she was ready to leave. All aspects of her physical death worked out perfectly.
Though it was excruciating to hand her tiny body over to the mortician when we took her to be cremated, the most painful part was disconnecting from her cognitively. We talked constantly. Our telepathic conversations were an ever present source of hilarity and advice during my waking hours. After her departure, we stayed attached and continued to chat frequently, but the day arrived that I needed to stop blabbering to her–she had other things to do and needed to be free. I sobbed and wailed, then sobbed and wailed some more. My best friend was truly no longer available to me.
I still hear from her occasionally-she pops in when I really need her advice. But it’s nothing like it used to be. 😦
So last Friday, I longed and longed to have a full conversation with her. Try as I might, I couldn’t hear her very well. Her one thought permeated my brain clearly, though: “The love remains. The love is still there, and we are still connected.” She repeatedly said that me to throughout the day, reminding me of the most crucial fact of all–love absolutely never dies. The ones we adore are always present when we need them, and often, more than that. There is no amount of money I wouldn’t give to have her back with us, healthy and full of crap, ready to run and play, if it were at all possible. That ain’t gonna happen. But I have what matters most–her love is always in my heart, and always with me. I do feel that when I leave my body, my darling stinker will be there for me. I hope so, anyway. If not, I am confident that the love will remain.