how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

two dog night

i had a long day at work. several children's parties to do/perform for, whatever it is called. i was the head party person all perky and happy. i kept all the children entertained and happy. more importantly, i kept the parents all happy.

i am wiped out.

i am driving back to the apartment and i think, "i'll surprise my dogs and quickly step in to take a picture."

i walk in the door and see this.
Carmen Sophia wasn't asleep. i had stepped in and she did not turn her head towards me. i heard her sigh. do dogs sigh? it sounded like she did. then she got up and came over, all happy to see me. her little yips and cries were so heartbreaking because i know she missed me. 10 hours is a long day for them.

i sat down to eat my supper, a bowl of Cheerios, and answer a couple of emails, to check in with my daughter, and i got hit in the soul with a photo on my background.

this one.
i could not eat my cereal. i got choked up and started to cry.

i miss him. i miss our walks. i miss the snow. i know, crazy to miss that cold, deep, wet mess, but when you walked like we did together, the sudden cessation of doing that carves the sorrow of not getting to do that anymore into your soul.
we walked, obviously, in any weather. Carmen and Scootie loved walking. they are such curious little dogs. so funny.

i miss getting soaking wet and cold. i miss his having a small flask of hot chocolate in his pocket in case my bout with hypothermia reared its ugly head. {i was told that having had that happen exacerbates the pneumonia. if i get cold, blam. my lungs react badly.} my Dragon would let me walk in the snow, but he kept watch on our time and took care of me. it wasn't so much the snow as warming up afterwards, or rather, his technique for warming me up.

*sigh* i miss him terribly.

having Carmen and Scootie with me as my constant companions has been a great comfort and blessing to me. they are so crazy. so cute. such a little team.
but i think they miss him. maybe it's exhaustion making my mind take a fanciful turn. after all, i'm the one who sent a stuffed bunny, the Traveling Ambassador of Grief and Whimsy, on a road trip around the world.

but then again, i believe in little tiny miracles. like a Dragon finding a woman deep in the shadows; like a Dragon loving a woman as scarred as i am. little miracles.

like believing that a little dog can miss her master, and that maybe she really did sigh.

a storm is coming. heavy rain. it's going to be a two dog night. then again, it's always a two dog night at my place.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

I found your blog over a year ago searching for something else. I check back once or twice a week to see what you've written and to look at your pictures. Your style of writing takes hold of me and won't let go. It's like reading a romance novel. I'm hale and hearty and so is my wife. But I wish she loved me half as much as you love your Dragon. Even a tenth as much.

Debbie said...

I do believe that dogs know. Our old dog, who died a year after Austin, definitely knew he was gone. Her health declined rapidly and if a dog could be depressed, she was. They know.

I hope you don't get too wet in the rain storm.

The comment above is heartbreaking. Being in a great love is so powerful, and it lasts beyond death. It's sad that not every married couple gets to experience it. I'm going to count myself lucky, even though my great love died. Because experiencing that love was worth all this pain and sorrow.

Boo said...

I wore a shirt of Cliff's one day and Barney kept smelling it and wouldn't get off my lap :-( I'm so thankful we both have dogs x

megan said...

Boris still stops and stands beside trucks that are the same as matt's truck. A number of months ago, I called him by a nickname matt had for him, which I'd forgotten. He jumped up and whirled around to the door, I assume thinking matt had said it. Then he realized it wasn't matt, dropped his head and whimpered.
And - me too, Deb. This is part of our love, this is still us, too.

Sandy said...

I am sure dogs know. I am still having trouble keeping weight on TJ's dog. There are times when out of the blue he will jump on my lap and just begin crying. I know it is because he misses TJ, just as I do.

abandonedsouls said...

anonymous, i am sorry you see a difference in your marriage compared to others. just a suggestion, but maybe you could sit down and talk with your wife.

Deb, the storm was awesome. i got to wear my rain boots and splash in the puddles. i remember when your dog died. it broke my heart for all of you.

Boo, we are lucky to have our dogs.

Megan, oh, poor Boris. there are people who give so little credit to animals. they are so incredible spiritual.

Sandy, i am sorry that TJ's dog cries but the trust and empathy that he has with you, to jump in your lap and let go like that. how incredibly special and poignant.

i believe dogs mourn. i believe they are more evolved morally and spiritually than some of us humans. i love my Scotties and am so grateful for having them in my life.

i wish you all peace and light. and i wish it for all of our dogs {cats, hamsters......all of them}

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