This will not be a sad, lonely post but a thank you to my Rosie's spirit who has carried me on, and still pushes me, every day, and it's not a mild push! It will be a week tomorrow since my beloved angel passed to her rainbow bridge and I want this post to be her inspiration to anyone who has lost a beloved best friend. If you happen to share my sorrow or have lost a service dog, I only know that you must believe, life goes on. It just does.
I have not stopped cleaning, (FEROCIOUSLY cleaning), since the day Rosie passed, and it is a good thing. I have enveloped my kitty and son in loving attention, Rosie would approve. Although, every second of every day is different, quiet, surreal and very, very, numb. At first I tried to see Rosie in everything I saw, felt, touched, smelled and experienced. I had to let that go.
Shock and Denial and I would add SURREAL, to this list. I felt a familiar loss of reality when my Mom died, a disconnection, a denial.
I promised myself to NEVER do that again, too freaking scary!! A nightmare! I tried again today, pushing myself is something I rather admire about myself and I was blessed enough that BOTH times a friend saw me and helped me, must of looked a mess!
Denial, shock, downright hell on earth. Just sucks.
Life just sucks. Clean, cry, clean, cry, clean, cry, sleep, wake up and cry. All around you, life goes on, people say their blessings and forget, life goes on. Cars drive by, people phone, (I don't answer), kids scream outside, SHUTUP!!! Grief takes it toll. Anger is a stage, and I fully realize this because I wanted to hurt myself, for hurting Rosie, for not helping her, for not saving her. Grief, guilt and blame.
The last two days, I have not pressured myself so much to see Rosie in the clouds or believe that she is coming back, because you do. I saw her die, but dreamed that the veterinarian did something wrong and I hired a detective to get her back. I dreamed she was in a corral with a horse that was hurting her, I could not save her. Grief, denial, blame.
Only today did I stop pushing, (except for yet another trip by myself that a friend saved me from, my mental illness, not my tears), and I felt a warm, tender ray of sunshine push through to me. I had to let it come to me and stop so desperately looking for Rosie in my life, she no longer lives in my life, but in the sunshine and HER life. I had to let it be. I saw her smile in the clouds.
The stages of grief go on and around and upside down and sideways, all through your emotions and physical body like a roller coaster. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes like a bulldozer. I know that the bulldozer hits you when you least expect it, a smell, a song, any remembering moment in your life cascades a flood of memories that leave you breathless, stunned, sad. It's like your lost one is right there, but you can't touch them, it's like their life has returned to you, but you can't get it. Grief, your alone.
Your very precious reason for living, IS very precious and has been returned to their home. I believe now that Rosie was sent to me, little insignificant me, as a very treasured gift. I could not keep her forever.
She had to return to her home where she will run and play and not feel any pain, she deserves that. I must not own her, she has a place to go. I was given a gift and so loved that gift that I never, ever wanted to let it go, it was mine! Rosie came to me to teach me, to let me enrich my life and cherish what she taught me. Most importantly, what she taught me must carry on because that is why she became a part of my life. This must be the HARDEST part of letting someone so miraculous go, to take what they taught you and carry on in life, because life goes on. Grief, acceptance, purpose.
Rosie was a miracle. She truly was. A very wise person told me that what a service dog does is make the service dog's person a miracle. The dog makes the person truly believe in their self. The spiritual and physical connection between a person and their service dog is infinitely 'healing'. It is like the service dog has brought their person back home.
I still feel the 'home' Rosie taught me but of course everything is different now. When someone you love is gone, every molecule of what you see is gone, though everything is still there. Grief, sometimes you just do not know what stage you are in and do not care. I do know that I am feeling ever bit of it and hope that sharing this with you might help you when you are lonely or in need of a loving story of hope.
Rosie taught me hope, to carry on, get off the couch!
I have forgotten how very miraculous that was for me to just get off the dam couch! It was my prison.
I wrote in a previous post that I could not clean my bathroom because it smelled of Rosie and her many baths because of her illness this summer. My bathroom had a dark blue shower curtain and dark blue towels.
Today I bought a white curtain with what I think, is on it, a tree of life. To some...ya, a shower curtain with a stuffy toy, to me a celebration of life with my Rosie above it all. Maybe kind of silly and crazy? Well, never said I was sane, and starting to love myself just the way I am. My life is becoming increasingly brighter every day with the light of Rosie's spirit and all she taught me about living life.
I am feeling better now, even though I know the stages of grief can grip you like a vice and not let go, they still do, especially at night. When it is time to stop moving, everything is done and there is only time to think, to miss someone. Night time is very hard.
When sleep finally arrives and a good dream dissolves into my morning, I awake with only the medicinal smell of Rosie. No Rosie to bath, medicate and comfort. Thank you God, I know there must be many squirrels at the Rainbow Bridge for her.
There are so many people to talk to, to help, to let them know the miracle that is life, they can live it!
Many more adventures to come my friends, I hope there is something, somewhere in this post that may light your way to some comfort and peace. Our loved ones want us to keep learning till we see them again.
Much love and peace
Leanne
