With the big upset in the normal flow of my world, I'm a little bit at sea as to time and days and what I should be doing.
I was in the midst of some urgent and important projects, and was completely derailed by sorrow.
Please understand that I am in no way equating my sorrow over the loss of my pet with the kind of sorrow so many others are suffering. I can get another pet, not another Daisie, but another pet and pursue the happiness that comes with that. I know, I know, I know that others can't get back a dad, a son, a husband, a mom, a daughter, a wife. Oh, how my heart hurts for you!
I'm just trying to keep it real for what my life is, and I confess, I have not the strength I see in others.
So I've been floundering this week. Kind friends have encouraged me that it's okay to back off on my expectations of myself for a few days, so I have. But I realized that I had moved the essentials of my desk to the dining room table because it was too hard to be in the room where Daisie had her crate. She would doze and snore while I worked (and wasted time) on the computer.
It's too quiet, and empty -- and kind of sad to move that crate out and admit we are a family without need of one.
But life is going on, so today I took myself by the lapels and propelled me out into the garage to organize and make room for the things that need to get out of the house...all those dishes and treats and food and medicines and beds.
The harder part is not getting derailed by the holes in my routine: the first-thing-in-the-morning duty run, and breakfast. The walk and treat after. Remembering the meds at the proper time (my phone kept reminding me). The urge to holler an alert for Daisie to join me when I was going outside. Keeping track of her dinner time; that was her most demanding point of the day -- if you could call her demanding.Checking to see if she was on her bed, in her chair, or in her crate.
In the first days of her painful absence, I was aware of every thing I didn't have to do...but now, as I start to pick up with everyday life, I forget and start to act in the habit of the past. And then it hurts again.
As the days pass, it is easier to remember the happy memories and forget the heart-wrenching last moments, and that is a mercy.
Also, I have found myself pondering why I don't express how much I appreciate people more readily, and why do I wait to do things I want to do, finding reasons and excuses that seem like obstacles. Life is short, and full of imperfections. The best thing we can do is love, even if imperfectly. Waiting around for it to all be just right is a waste of time.
Because someday you'll wake up and find that the opportunity to love someone is finite, and there's little you can regret more than that.