Now I understand the statistics that say a full time, family caregiver will die within six months to a year after their spouse. You truly lose your purpose in life after they’ve gone. I’ve been a constant companion and nursemaid to Honey for almost a year and now, there are no alarms needed for medication three times a day, no middle of the night jaunts outside, no scheduling every part of my day around what is best for her, no worries that she will faint, carrying her up and down the stairs, making sure she has water wherever we go, keeping her comfortable, feeding her special foods......there are no longer any needs bigger than my own or the rest of the family......and quite frankly, I’m lost!
I meander around the house. The walls drip with sorrow; I open the doors to let in a breeze hoping it scrubs away the sadness. I am alone with my thoughts, too many thoughts, analyzing the past two days, driving myself nuts with too many questions and even more doubts.
I know things will get better, and I know I have a lot of other purpose in my life; I just need to reacquaint myself with simpler daily routines, things I’ve put on the backburner, my other pups for instance. I realized this morning when I threw a ball in the house for Henri, a forbidden fun while Honey was sick, fear of her bounding off the sofa to lay chase and flopping dead on the floor put a stop to it. Poor Henri, ball is his favourite thing, so even his life had to change. Lucky for him, it will change back.
And a new thought emerges, beating its way through the blinding sorrow to form a glimpse of things to come. Fresh from losing a precious baby, I look at my other three, all around the age of six, and I wonder how I can ever deal with future loss, what if they all expire close together? I’ll go stark raving mad, they’ll have to lock me up and throw away the key.
I had Honey the longest at 12 years, she was the matriarch and the reason for bringing the others home. I fell madly in love with poodles and wanted oodles of them! Honey was definitely special, not that I loved her the most. My heart shares equal affection for my babies; each one brings something different to the table, each of their personality’s a polar opposite, individual and amazing. If we were on a sinking ship and I could only save one I couldn’t choose. I’d rather go down with them all than live with a broken heart filled with guilt.
As for most of the people I know, they really only loved Honey. I guess they knew her more, being with me longer; my other three aren’t so appreciated. They are less interested in humans, more aloof, not inclined to put themselves out there for people to scratch and pet. They tend to only want to be with hubby and me. For that reason, they aren’t as popular. Honey was different that way, what a little schmoozer she was.
I feel useless, floundering around. Sometimes the sadness builds and I feel like I might burst, other times I feel weirdly calm. The world feels so different now. Even the wind seems to be charged with a strange energy, it’s banging my screen door, letting me know it’s out there. I imagined its Honey telling me to forgive myself for what I’ve done, but I can’t. I feel like I’m losing my mind.
I begrudge how life is going on around me, cars are passing by the house, the waves are hitting the shore, planes and birds are flying overhead, while my house and yard is in full, funereal lock-down, filled with reminders of loss everywhere, the emptiness of it is suffocating.
I’ve never experienced grief like this. Even when my parents died I was devastated but the pain wasn’t as severe, it didn’t cut through my soul with razer sharpness. Studies show that we bond with our dogs like we would with a child. We spend a great deal of time holding them and staring deeply into their eyes as we would a baby. They say a dog has the mentality of a two year old so they really are babies. Then they are with us 24/7, by our side, through all that we do and feel, always there to comfort and make us smile, waiting to do whatever we want, no sass or barktalk, they are good to go.
Now it’s all about rebuilding. Forcing myself to eat, trying not to cry so my one eyelid can heal. Remembering the good times and trying to diminish the trauma of the recently bad. Peel off the scab to allow the healing skin to breathe.
Along with the lack of purpose, I also have a new sense of freedom that brings feelings of guilt. I was out of coffee cream and dish detergent so I had to go downtown last evening. I fixed myself up as best I could and went to the drugstore. On the way there I realized I just left the house on my own, without my girl or the omnipresent worry of leaving her behind. Honey needed constant watching so we never parted, only when hubby was home did I venture out to the store for provisions knowing she was in good hands. Well, not as good as mine of course, so there was always that nagging doubt and fear that tainted the outing. I’m the maternal one, the worrywart, the fusser, whereas hubby was more relaxed and maybe not as observant to her needs. I’d come home and she would have passed out because he hadn’t grabbed her up in time and I'd think, oh shit, won't be doing that again.....
I fretted she would die and I wouldn’t be with her. I needed to be there when she passed, so the warmth of my body and words of love whispered in her ear would perhaps give comfort as her beautiful light faded and went out. I used to park the car and rush to the door to scoop her up before the excitement built to a faint. Four dogs barking that a car was in the yard was a bit of a circus, noisy and charged with excitement. The anxiety of coming home left me breathless. She’d be so frantic to see me; wiggling and reaching out to me from daddy’s arms as if she too worried I wouldn’t be there for her. I suppose the only silver lining of putting an animal to sleep is the guarantee you will be there at the end.....
I don’t care what the so called experts say about dogs and their emotions. I wasn’t just part of a pack, ranking some position in their hierarchy; perhaps the top dog designation experts like to coin. Honey loved me, as pure as any love there is. All my dogs do. I can see it in their eyes, in their actions. It is LOVE, not some kind of loyalty because I feed them and care for them. They say now that a dog is much happier with their human than other dogs in the house so the experts might be getting closer to coming around to my way of thinking.
With a dog, it doesn’t matter if you are gone for five minutes or hours, they are just as excited to see you on your return. You are their entire life and I like being needed to that degree, throw in my feelings and it’s a pretty balanced relationship. I need to be needed in a breathless kind of way, no human ever makes me feel like they would die without me and probably I wouldn’t want hubby to come bounding to the door when I arrive home and jump up and down to lick my face as if his life hung in the balance while I was away. But when a dog reacts that way, their unconditional love rushing into your waiting arms, well it’s simply wonderful! How true is this little anecdote: Lock your dog and your wife in the trunk of a car and come back in an hour, see which one is happy to see you.
The newness of being free of the burden of worry, is almost a burden in itself. I don’t want to feel free, not yet, not when my baby is barely cold in the ground. When I love something, I pay respect for their passing, I can’t be all rosy and smiling, not yet, it’s much too soon to move on. If I smile or laugh it’s for someone’s benefit, it’s a superficial facial motion to make others feel better, a mask like the tears of a clown. I’ve thought of that song today and how appropriate that the word “honey” is in the lyrics. I’ve capitalized the word to make it her name.
I meander around the house. The walls drip with sorrow; I open the doors to let in a breeze hoping it scrubs away the sadness. I am alone with my thoughts, too many thoughts, analyzing the past two days, driving myself nuts with too many questions and even more doubts.
I know things will get better, and I know I have a lot of other purpose in my life; I just need to reacquaint myself with simpler daily routines, things I’ve put on the backburner, my other pups for instance. I realized this morning when I threw a ball in the house for Henri, a forbidden fun while Honey was sick, fear of her bounding off the sofa to lay chase and flopping dead on the floor put a stop to it. Poor Henri, ball is his favourite thing, so even his life had to change. Lucky for him, it will change back.
And a new thought emerges, beating its way through the blinding sorrow to form a glimpse of things to come. Fresh from losing a precious baby, I look at my other three, all around the age of six, and I wonder how I can ever deal with future loss, what if they all expire close together? I’ll go stark raving mad, they’ll have to lock me up and throw away the key.
I had Honey the longest at 12 years, she was the matriarch and the reason for bringing the others home. I fell madly in love with poodles and wanted oodles of them! Honey was definitely special, not that I loved her the most. My heart shares equal affection for my babies; each one brings something different to the table, each of their personality’s a polar opposite, individual and amazing. If we were on a sinking ship and I could only save one I couldn’t choose. I’d rather go down with them all than live with a broken heart filled with guilt.
As for most of the people I know, they really only loved Honey. I guess they knew her more, being with me longer; my other three aren’t so appreciated. They are less interested in humans, more aloof, not inclined to put themselves out there for people to scratch and pet. They tend to only want to be with hubby and me. For that reason, they aren’t as popular. Honey was different that way, what a little schmoozer she was.
I feel useless, floundering around. Sometimes the sadness builds and I feel like I might burst, other times I feel weirdly calm. The world feels so different now. Even the wind seems to be charged with a strange energy, it’s banging my screen door, letting me know it’s out there. I imagined its Honey telling me to forgive myself for what I’ve done, but I can’t. I feel like I’m losing my mind.
I begrudge how life is going on around me, cars are passing by the house, the waves are hitting the shore, planes and birds are flying overhead, while my house and yard is in full, funereal lock-down, filled with reminders of loss everywhere, the emptiness of it is suffocating.
I’ve never experienced grief like this. Even when my parents died I was devastated but the pain wasn’t as severe, it didn’t cut through my soul with razer sharpness. Studies show that we bond with our dogs like we would with a child. We spend a great deal of time holding them and staring deeply into their eyes as we would a baby. They say a dog has the mentality of a two year old so they really are babies. Then they are with us 24/7, by our side, through all that we do and feel, always there to comfort and make us smile, waiting to do whatever we want, no sass or barktalk, they are good to go.
Now it’s all about rebuilding. Forcing myself to eat, trying not to cry so my one eyelid can heal. Remembering the good times and trying to diminish the trauma of the recently bad. Peel off the scab to allow the healing skin to breathe.
Along with the lack of purpose, I also have a new sense of freedom that brings feelings of guilt. I was out of coffee cream and dish detergent so I had to go downtown last evening. I fixed myself up as best I could and went to the drugstore. On the way there I realized I just left the house on my own, without my girl or the omnipresent worry of leaving her behind. Honey needed constant watching so we never parted, only when hubby was home did I venture out to the store for provisions knowing she was in good hands. Well, not as good as mine of course, so there was always that nagging doubt and fear that tainted the outing. I’m the maternal one, the worrywart, the fusser, whereas hubby was more relaxed and maybe not as observant to her needs. I’d come home and she would have passed out because he hadn’t grabbed her up in time and I'd think, oh shit, won't be doing that again.....
I fretted she would die and I wouldn’t be with her. I needed to be there when she passed, so the warmth of my body and words of love whispered in her ear would perhaps give comfort as her beautiful light faded and went out. I used to park the car and rush to the door to scoop her up before the excitement built to a faint. Four dogs barking that a car was in the yard was a bit of a circus, noisy and charged with excitement. The anxiety of coming home left me breathless. She’d be so frantic to see me; wiggling and reaching out to me from daddy’s arms as if she too worried I wouldn’t be there for her. I suppose the only silver lining of putting an animal to sleep is the guarantee you will be there at the end.....
I don’t care what the so called experts say about dogs and their emotions. I wasn’t just part of a pack, ranking some position in their hierarchy; perhaps the top dog designation experts like to coin. Honey loved me, as pure as any love there is. All my dogs do. I can see it in their eyes, in their actions. It is LOVE, not some kind of loyalty because I feed them and care for them. They say now that a dog is much happier with their human than other dogs in the house so the experts might be getting closer to coming around to my way of thinking.
With a dog, it doesn’t matter if you are gone for five minutes or hours, they are just as excited to see you on your return. You are their entire life and I like being needed to that degree, throw in my feelings and it’s a pretty balanced relationship. I need to be needed in a breathless kind of way, no human ever makes me feel like they would die without me and probably I wouldn’t want hubby to come bounding to the door when I arrive home and jump up and down to lick my face as if his life hung in the balance while I was away. But when a dog reacts that way, their unconditional love rushing into your waiting arms, well it’s simply wonderful! How true is this little anecdote: Lock your dog and your wife in the trunk of a car and come back in an hour, see which one is happy to see you.
The newness of being free of the burden of worry, is almost a burden in itself. I don’t want to feel free, not yet, not when my baby is barely cold in the ground. When I love something, I pay respect for their passing, I can’t be all rosy and smiling, not yet, it’s much too soon to move on. If I smile or laugh it’s for someone’s benefit, it’s a superficial facial motion to make others feel better, a mask like the tears of a clown. I’ve thought of that song today and how appropriate that the word “honey” is in the lyrics. I’ve capitalized the word to make it her name.
Tears of a Clown
by The Miracles
Oh yeah yeah yeah
Now if there's a smile on my face
It's only there trying to fool the public
But when it comes down to fooling you
Now Honey that's quite a different subject
But don't let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression
Really I'm sad, oh I'm sadder than sad
You're gone and I'm hurting so bad
Like a clown I appear to be glad (sad, sad, sad, sad)
Now they're some sad things known to man
But ain't too much sadder than
The tears of a clown when there's no one around, uh
Oh yeah, baby
Now if I appear to be carefree
It's only to camouflage my sadness
And Honey to shield my pride I try
To cover this hurt with a show of gladness
But don't let my show convince you
That I've been happy since you
'Cause I had to go (why did you go), oh I need you so (I need you so)
Look I'm hurt and I want you to know (want you to know)
For others I put on a show (it's just a show)
Now they're some sad things known to man
But ain't too much sadder than
The tears of a clown when there's no one around, uh
Just like Pagliacci did
I try to keep my surface hid
Smiling in the crowd I try
But in my lonely room I cry
The tears of a clown
When there's no one around, oh yeah, baby
Now if there's a smile on my face
Don't let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression
Don't let this smile I wear
Make you think that I don't care
'Cause really I'm sad
by The Miracles
Oh yeah yeah yeah
Now if there's a smile on my face
It's only there trying to fool the public
But when it comes down to fooling you
Now Honey that's quite a different subject
But don't let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression
Really I'm sad, oh I'm sadder than sad
You're gone and I'm hurting so bad
Like a clown I appear to be glad (sad, sad, sad, sad)
Now they're some sad things known to man
But ain't too much sadder than
The tears of a clown when there's no one around, uh
Oh yeah, baby
Now if I appear to be carefree
It's only to camouflage my sadness
And Honey to shield my pride I try
To cover this hurt with a show of gladness
But don't let my show convince you
That I've been happy since you
'Cause I had to go (why did you go), oh I need you so (I need you so)
Look I'm hurt and I want you to know (want you to know)
For others I put on a show (it's just a show)
Now they're some sad things known to man
But ain't too much sadder than
The tears of a clown when there's no one around, uh
Just like Pagliacci did
I try to keep my surface hid
Smiling in the crowd I try
But in my lonely room I cry
The tears of a clown
When there's no one around, oh yeah, baby
Now if there's a smile on my face
Don't let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression
Don't let this smile I wear
Make you think that I don't care
'Cause really I'm sad
RSS Feed
