I'm very big on anniversaries. I don't do it on purpose, I just find myself thinking, It was this time last year...
Often my body knows the anniversary is coming before I'm conscious of it. Years ago, I would start feeling anxious, begin to have sleep disturbances, and it would occur to me that the anniversary of the assault was approaching. (This is very common for trauma survivors.)
But usually it's just once - one year. The anniversary brings an opportunity to remember, to reflect on what's happened since, to check the current path, maybe to mourn or rejoice.
This time last year, it was our last weeks with Buster, although we didn't know it.
Walking Cody in the morning, I've been thinking of B, and starting to cry, almost every day.
Two images keep coming to me.
One, a cold, rainy day in December. I kneel down, open my arms, and - bleeding, hungry, dying - alone, baffled, desperate - he trusts me. He puts his head down, creeps towards me. I put my arms around him and hold him against me.
That's how our six-year odyssey with this special creature began. His many issues and illnesses made him the focus of our lives. We almost lost him right before we moved to Canada, but survived that battle, only to lose him ten weeks later.
The other image that keeps returning is at the vet's office, his final moments. He sits in front of me, strangely calm, probably blind, almost certainly in pain. I put my arms around him, hold him close, ask his forgiveness.
Past experience tells me that once we're past the actual anniversary of Buster's death, I'll feel better. But this is a tough week.
On a happier note, we're ready to adopt another dog! We're just waiting until we're in the new place.
9 comments:
((hugs))
Wow, time flies!
Even though Noah is still healthy, I think about that from time to time.
People sometimes joke to me about cloning him if there was an option to do that. My answer is an emphatic No.
There is only one Noah, and there will never be another one. The same with Buster. There will never be another one like him, and the only way to honor him is to keep it that way.
Look forward to hearing about the next very lucky dog to be adopted by you.
Thank you David. Time sure does fly. In this case, that's a good thing, because time helps heal the loss.
Allan used to joke about having Clyde stuffed after she died. He would prop her up near his chair, looking up at him adoringly.
At least I think he was joking.
I hope you and Noah have many, many more years together.
The modern West has really mixed up mourning customs. We get a couple of days bereavement leave and are expected to be "back to normal" on day 4. Jewish culture recognizes that it takes time to mourn, and the headstone is typically unveiled on or before the one-year anniversary of the death--which is also marked with a candle. This doesn't make the painful anniversary any more comfortable to bear, I think, but it does give us a way to deal with the emotions, and it teaches us that it's right and natural to grieve over a lengthy time period. I am genuinely glad to hear you discuss the one-year anniversary, and to recognize its importance, instead of just glossing over it as many people would rather do. Peace.
Thank you, Peregrinato. I really appreciate that.
Like I said, I don't do it on purpose, but it does feel meaningful to me.
I always thought the Jewish "unveiling" tradition was a good one.
Thanks for this, and for your post that I commented on earlier.
Wow. A year already!??
Hang in there L, as you probably know - it does get easier with time. Still hard as hell though.
I can relate to Allan's "joke" about stuffing Clyde - I was totally serious when I was a kid, about stuffing my first dog. I couldn't bear to think of life without her. Never did though, my parents just thought I was nuts.
However, there is nothing like a new dog to distract you from the sadness of losing Buster. You will keep us informed every step of the way of course? :)
Hey Stacie, so good to hear from you. Yes, hard to believe it's been a year. I do think that loving a new pup will help a lot - and I'm so glad I finally feel ready.
You will keep us informed every step of the way of course? :)
As if I can live without that! :)
I really appreciate what you're saying, Peregrinato, but there was a real problem in my wife's family recently where her grandfather died, but his funeral service didn't happen for almost a month. He had been cremated, but the family members in charge felt that the memorial service didn't have to happen right away.
I think funeral services have a couple of important psychological uses. They drive home the fact that this loved one is no longer here -- in a sense they kick off the grieving process. And they also give license to grieve, because you can say or do quite a lot at a wake and not permanently offend anyone.
Anyhow, just sayin'. It's all pretty important. But I really see the one year thing as important, too, because that's when you can really get some perspective about what's been lost, and what still remains.
And I still think every August about my parent's poor little dog, who got an infection at 8 years old and died far too young (and still brave and sweet to the end). That was over 10 years ago, and I still remember hearing her coming when I opened the fridge, weeks later.
Anyhow, gotta go hug Scout and Bean now.
I think funeral services have a couple of important psychological uses.
I think Peregrinato would be the first to agree with you.
Btw, the Jewish one-year tradition is in addition to the all the immediate funeral and mourning rituals, not instead of. There is no embalming, so a funeral is supposed to be held 24 hours after death. Then there's "shiva", a one-week mourning period. Some other stuff too... and then a year later, the gravestone is "unveiled" and there's a remembrance.
****
Hug Scout and Bean for me, too.
Hiya, M...you are absolutely correct about the meaning of a funeral service. I can't find any way to explain it without using the words you already used. In the field of grief work, there is often a distinction between bereavement, the state of living with loss, grief, the emotional response to that loss, and mourning, the rituals or pattern given by a culture to channel the emotions of grief. In essence, mourning rituals teaches people a way to grieve. It is really unfortunate that the service was delayed for so long--its almost like it was treated merely as a formality, when in reality the funeral is a public occasion to express a bucketful of emotions and is a reality-check necessary to assist the grief-stricken, who are often in a form of mild shock; the deceased truly is deceased. There's no denying it.
By saying it takes time to mourn, I certainly wasn't advocating not paying attention to the immediate needs, including the need for a service--just that wrestling with grief takes a long while longer than our society wants to deal with.
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