Sorry that things have been pretty quiet over here these past few months. Quite a lot has happened over here in my personal story and it’s hard to know where to begin.
When our Jack began getting sicker this past fall season, we knew that something was wrong and scheduled a surgery with our veterinarian for a biopsy. When they told us that Jack had cancer, something inside of our world seemed to stop rotating. After being initially given a diagnosis of 3-6 months, we turned our attentions inward to devote as much time as we could to spend with her as a family. However, we were not given nearly as much time as we had first expected.
Jack’s cancer was very aggressive and at 5 weeks, 6 days post-surgery, we lost our beautiful girl, just 18 days shy of her 8th birthday.
I know that many of you will read this and will not understand why her passing has affected us so much. But Jack was never just our pet, our dog. For my husband and I, she was one of our children, albeit a four legged and furry one. She had been with us for most of our marriage, through every move, every major event, every small moment. She was the best friend of a cat, and the beloved pony of a toddler. She was so much more to us than I can ever explain with the English language. And when she passed, part of us went with her. Moving forward in a world where Jack no longer exist has been a daily struggle, one where ever single thing reminds us of her and the pain of losing her happens all over again.
It has been a hard 37 days. Laughing and smiling have not come easily, especially in those first weeks. While each day hurts a little less, I almost fear the day that I can look at her pictures and not cry. I’m afraid that maybe I will forget her smell, the sound of her roo, the way she would get so excited when she saw a ball or Frisbee. I can’t even take the bed that she loved to lay in out of the living room because I feel like it’s removing her from our minds. It may not seem logical, but grief has no logic.
I attended my first event as a vendor on Jack’s birthday, and cried the hour drive home afterward. Attending the WEAR Conference in Chicago this past weekend was easier- I kept myself so busy in lectures, with networking, and spending time with friends that I was exhausted enough to fall asleep straightaway each night. I’m getting back on the horse, as the saying goes, trying to move my business forward and continuing education within my industry. It won’t all happen at once, and it won’t always be easy, but I’m happy for the change.
So why am I writing about this? Because I’m not ready to talk out loud yet, and this way I’m sharing my absence these past few months in a way that I can write a little, cry a lot, and walk away for a few minutes when I need to. And this way I don’t feel like I’m suffering alone. Loss is universal, however it shows itself in the lives of others, and by supporting each other in these times of need, we lift one another up to a better place. A place where rainbows are and the darkness is held at bay just a little while longer.