Some Reassembly Required

I thought it would be easier.

I had pre-mourned every new sign of diminishment. I had established a hospice mindset, every effort being made for comfort, sparing her the cruelty of hopeless prolonging. I imagined that when the time arrived that even comfort seemed hopeless, the ending would be a sense of release, relief, and reflection; sorrow, and then a return to life.

Except that after almost 13 years of attentive devotion and sacrifice, most profoundly in the last 2 years as the weight of age became undeniable, I have no life of my own in the wake of Jessie’s leaving. It is as if, at the moment her spark faded this past Monday morning, I lost both a cherished companion and a purpose.

That, coupled with constantly running into the sharp spaces where Jessie is supposed to be, has thrown me into aching fits of sadness and longing. For those moments I completely understand the phrase, “drowning in sorrow.”

I am moving ahead, though, one foot consciously placed in front of the other. More moments of clarity than blinding pain. I believe I will eventually stand in clear, loving light, “glad that it happened”, as Dr. Suess admonished, rather than “sad that it is over.” Soon enough I hope to find a way to channel all I’ve learned from serving Jessie into a new reason for being. After all, Maxx, momma’s boy that he is, is still here, and can surely use an additional measure of unconditional love.

Still, in whatever time I, myself, have remaining in this life, I’m not sure I will be able to talk about Jessie (and I fully intend to talk about Jessie) without a tear here or there.

Jessie’s Story Is Done

For those few who have followed.

Our sweet girl Jessie passed away this morning. Her doctor came to our home and helped her avoid further suffering. A tumor behind her left eye grew until it robbed her of much of her joy in life. Her passing was peaceful, with my wife and I at her side until the very end, comforting, petting, telling her what a wonderful girl she was, and how much she was loved.

I know I promised that this blog would be a chronicle of the weeks and months of her care, but it seems I did much more caring than writing. I don’t regret that.

As you might imagine, I am heartbroken, a swirl of hurtful emotion. I should be getting her ready for an afternoon walk right now, or tossing her a few of her beloved home-cooked chicken treats, instead of reporting that she is no longer here with me. This recovery is going to take a while.

I guess for all practical purposes there is no longer any reason for additional entries to this blog. My thanks to those who followed.