Yesterday my dog died and I’m very sad today. I’ve had Caesar for 16 years and I’ve grown accustom to him and his ways. Starting this morning I’m having to re-learn how to do things that I’ve done the same way for 16 years. I don’t have to get up early and let him out. I have to sweep up my messes off the floor instead of him finding every little crumb and cleaning up after me. I don’t have to take a big step getting out of bed anymore to avoid stepping on him. I have to relearn how to live. Every little adjustment is a bite-size portion in the grieving process. And its not all that fun. In fact, it is fairly painful. Its like little reminders of what I am missing over and over and over.
People who are in the grieving process are drawn towards others who have known grief. I spent a little time this morning talking to my friend on the phone who recently lost her dog. She knows of the pain I’m in. She understands. She is willing to just sit and listen and be in this with me. I’m very thankful for her. Those who do not know grief, or don’t know how to sit in the hurt, try to fix the pain—try to make it go away or lessen it in some way. Their intention in good but not very helpful. I’ll try to be patient with them.