As I sit here at my desk on Monday, I am reminded that ‘life goes on’, in all aspects.
After the events of Last Thursday at work, the remainder of my team are back to business… as if nothing has happened. Well, except we have less people to do more work.
This morning, after I dropped off David at school, I carried on with my morning ritual. That is, until I got home. I was so used to being greeted by Teddi, and when I opened the door from the garage, it was dead silence. Not even my cat was in sight.
How is it possible that I miss this dog? I guess the answer is that old saying ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’ applies here. Never in a million years would I have expected to be so sad to see her go.
For me, I think losing Teddi was an extension of the feelings of loss I’ve had over the last two years. When we sat with Teddi as the doctor put her to sleep, all I could think of was loss. I whispered in her ear to take care of my babies in heaven. And I cried. I knew it was her time, and I was okay with that… I just had my fill of loss I guess.
I had so many plans when the day came that we were dog-free again. I know this sounds kind of cold, but there were some things that grated on me about having Teddi around. For one, she completely destroyed the hardwood floors. She was a shedder. And, it was hard to have strangers in the house with her around (she was always overly protective).
I’ve always said that I had a short list of things I would complete in short order after Teddi’s departure:
1. Refinish the floors
2. Hire a maid to deep clean the house twice a month
Those things are on the radar, I’ll admit. But the fact remains that this weekend was the oddest in years without that old girl. S. has taken this quite hard, but he has been good about letting David know that when he’s sad and crying, it’s because he misses Teddi too. Let me tell you, it is 200% more heartbreaking to see a 40 year old man cry over the loss of his dog.
David understands Teddi is not coming back. We talked to him about it on Friday, and as all kids do, he has proved himself resilient and accepting to the fact his dog is gone. Upon asking him about Teddi, his response is “Teddi is in heaven with her Mommy and Daddy Dog, and she’s not sick anymore.”
This morning he told me that he had a good dream about Teddi. That she was “eating all the biscuits she wanted in heaven, and she was happy running though the woods.”
Children sometimes surprise us with their clarity and strength. If I could bottle that and apply it to myself, well, that would be something wouldn’t it?