One Month

7 Jan

I think it can be summed up in one sentence:

“Hello Nobody”

E~ was telling me one day that’s what he says when he walks in the door on the days I am not home to greet him off the bus.

I have found myself saying the same thing when I walk through the door.

It’s one month today since Charlie passed away. I still grieve for her but I have so much peace about her passing. I have dreaded her death for the past few years. When I would think about it, it always brought me to tears. I hated the thought of having to make the choice to put her down. Would we know it was the time? Would our motives be clear? I stressed about it & prayed she’d pass in her sleep so we wouldn’t have to make the call.

Her actual passing was difficult but I knew it was the right time. The night before she died, I knew in my heart something was wrong – she’d been off all week & she’d had a rough day. That night a part of me just knew. As I tucked her into bed I prayed over her & then told her I was not strong enough to make the decision on my own & that if it was time, she needed to tell me.

She did.

It was painfully obvious that morning that we were at the end. I ignored it as long as I could, but by mid-morning, it was clear she was suffering.

One of the most difficult things I had to do was tell the boys. T~ had been home with me so she had spent a good chunk of the day emoting, but the boys had no inkling anything was wrong when they left for school that morning. I hated having to surprise them with such awful news. It’s so hard to watch your kids grieve & know you can do nothing but go through it with them.

They all grieved in their own way. G~ needed to go with us to the vet & hear for himself why there was nothing left to be done. We’ve cried. We moved furniture so we wouldn’t have to look at Charlie’s spot anymore. I still find myself doing a jig through the office doorway as I attempt to step around her other spot. But the hardest thing for all of us is coming home to an empty house. I’m not sure we’ll ever get used to it.

I miss a thousand little things about her – her nails clicking on the kitchen floor, her reaction when she’d hear the rustle of the bag of puff corn, her mountains of hair, Her head on my knee telling me she needs to go potty, her stinky breath, her groan as she settled down for the night, her excitement at seeing the leash, her joy while playing in the snow, her nosing me when I stopped petting her before she was ready.

I miss my constant companion.




2 Responses to “One Month”

  1. Julie January 8, 2013 at 1:44 pm #

    I know these feelings very well. It does get a little better. Give it time….. I still miss my puppy.

  2. necessarygrace January 14, 2013 at 1:32 pm #

    I still miss our collie, Happy. Even though we’ve got other pets and the house isn’t empty, there is a place that was hers that no other pet can fill. I’m so sorry for your loss.

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