Ramblings

I don't have a solid purpose for this blog established yet. I have a busy life with lots going on. I have a lot of thoughts, intentions, and hopes for things to accomplish. I don't accomplish nearly what I'd like. Today's post though is a bit of rambling on grief and life's journey. Grief. So much to convey in five little letters. And so many platitudes. Today marks a very specific day. It's a date I won't forget. While I may have lapses of memory over the number of years as time goes on - sometimes it seems like a day, others forever - I'll always know the date itself. September 29.

Three years ago today it was a Sunday afternoon. I was in my "office" sewing. The dogs were in the living room chewing on bones. And I made a fatal mistake. Three years ago I lost my Juicy-bear. My precious baby Pomeranian. She wasn't even three yet. She was so vital. So energetic. So funny and so loving. She was treasured and she saved me but I failed her.

So many times people have said, "Don't feel guilty." "You have to let that go." Yes, in my brain I can identify with that. But my heart? My soul? The loss that screams at me too often? No. I will never forgive myself.

Juicy came along at a time I needed her. Maybe my only consolation is that she was there when I needed her the most. But she wasn't there when I needed her losing her. Grief is insanely painful. It comes in many forms. It sneaks up and hits you between the eyes. It takes you out at the knees. It visits in the night. It visits at the oddest moments.

I can look at her pictures now. Sort of. I still have on my to-do list a comprehensive photo montage to honor her. And a shadow box. Maybe in her honor this weekend I'll finally get the clay paw imprints done of my current pack, two of which were her prior siblings.

That little girl was something amazing. Something so special it defies logic. Maybe she was my personal angel. She knew when I needed her. She read me like a book. She had characteristics that were just so soulful you couldn't hardly believe she was a dog. I remember lying in bed with my knees up. She'd lay on her back in the crevice of my knees and I'd just have a hand resting lightly on her belly scratching her. Every single time I stopped, up went the paws. She'd cover her eyes with a rubbing motion. Telling me in the most obvious way she didn't want me to stop. It was so endearing. I would give anything to spend an evening in just such a way again.

Some moments are more painful than others. Juicy is a part of my history, a part of my story. She's a part of the sadness that lives in me. But I'll never regret a moment with her. She made an impact on many people in addition to me and mine. And she lives on in lovely little moments I see in Sophia. It helps a little.