10 October 2009

The Business of Grieving

Still the pain of missing you endures as does my journey of bitter grief. It is so quiet, so empty, so disquieting since you have gone. I will continue to process through this as I know I need to move through it, as painful as it is. My grief feels at times, all consuming, as it stands to reason that my chronic depression exacerbates this raw wound.

Pain is real. Love is real. Bonds are real. What to do when the one you love is no longer?

You were more than a *dog* to me. You were a friend. You were the one I could hold so tight, in the quiet of the night, as the anxiety and fear slowly drained from my body. You were the one I could snuggle in those deeply dark moments in the hopelessness and despair of my depression. You propped me up. You gave me unconditional love. You could not realize how much your *being* made all of the difference in the world to me...to all of us.

I can only hope that I, too, brought you joy and happiness. I hope you knew you were deeply loved, beyond measure. Your smile was infectous. You were smart, intuitive, loving, and gentle. You were the answer to my prayers. I could not have dreamed of a better pup.

I know you are at peace, Malachy. I envision you in Heaven, running with Macintosh and Daisy in lush fields, sun overhead, and beauty all around. I know you are again joyful in your freedom from this disease that came upon you so quickly...so mercilessly.

I will continue to cry and cry and cry until the tears run dry. I will again smile and laugh when I think of you. I know that day will come but for now, I must commit to the business of grieving.

2 comments:

Heather said...

Jeanne,
So glad you are writing. I cannot think of a luckier dog. He was so very loved. What is the line? "Sorrow is a fruit, God does not let it grow on a branch that cannot bear it." Small consolation, I know. Thinking of you and your family.

Bob said...

I'm so very sorry. I lost my best buddy of 20 years, an american saddlebred gelding named Howard, this past January. I know exactly the pain you're going through. I can only offer these words of consolation...after a while, the pain fades, but the memories do not... That's the gift we get from those we love.