Thursday, October 12, 2006
If this is a 12-step program, I think I'm on step 2
Today, I stopped by the vet's office for the first time since June 24. As I was driving there, I realized that it would in fact be my first time back, so of course I spent the rest of the drive thinking about it. And when I got there, I stood at the counter with Pepper's pee sample in my hands and tears in my eyes, feeling both silly and wretched, dying to get out as fast as possible, preferably before the waterworks started. I guess I'm constantly surprised that the wound is still so raw. I avoid talking about it and thinking about it. I prefer not to use or hear his name. But, every now and then, I'm confronted with something that I can't ignore or shove away -- a picture, his quilt, an unmistakably Puckish hair on the couch or in my cereal -- and I find myself overcome all over again.
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8 comments:
Oh ((((Kelly)))), I can so feel your pain. I had almost the same experience on Tuesday--only I held it together long enough to get to the car. They have remodeled the vet's office since last October--which made it even harder, the room which held so many memories both good and bad is now gone. Hang in there.
Don't try to shove your grief under the covers, Kelly. It will only eat you from the inside out.
Don't be embarassed about it and don't be afraid to share it.
Grief is a process you have to go through, and it's no fun.
I've lost both my parents and way too many dogs. It hurts so bad to lose a dog that, right now, I don't want to get another one. I can't face it.
How's Pepper?
Love,
Mom
We all grieve differently. Other members of my family like to talk about their losses. I prefer not to, with the exception of the occasional blog post. That is how I grieve. Thanks for respecting my individual grieving process.
Missy, you've been through so much these past couple of years, and you've shown enormous courage. I know you'd rather be a coward with nothing to deal with, wouldn't we all, but it never happens that way.
Deal with your grief in the best way you can, and remember I'm always here for you.
And you still haven't told us how Pepper is.
Pepper's fine, other than the ongoing anxiety issues. We suspected a bladder infection, but she doesn't have one. So that means we can't treat her inappropriate urination by just giving her antibiotics.
Kelly...I understand from where you come from on this subject. It's been quite awhile since I had to experience it, but it still can rip me apart.
At least Step 2 is one step ahead of Step 1. You're dealing with it -- even if it doesn't always feel that way. Alas, the mourning process can't be rushed (how nice if it could be). Take your time and continue to honor Puck in any way that feels right to you.
Maybe we should all handle are grief like Pepper does. Pee on the rug and see if you feel any better:)
34 years after my Dad's death I still have nightmares about him, so I have no right to advise anyone on how to grieve.
I still shed a few tears over Willie, too. I miss all the dogs, but he's the one that still gets to me.
You're still mourning the loss of Willie, too.
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