It’s hard to be alone

photo (7)We both miss Luke. And Lucy.

The house is quieter, emptier without them. Luke’s presence especially was large and not just because of his size.

We’re adjusting slowly. Some mornings when I go outside to give some love before heading off for work she goes as far away from me as possible and refuses to come. Other mornings she sticks her paw under the gate and whimpers.

The past week and the first few days of the coming one are the busiest of the year for me work-wise. I feel badly that I’ve been gone so much even though I snuck home several times to check on her.

It’s hard to be alone.

Life will be emptier

photo (6)

He snuggled up and I stroked his head and told him he would be playing with his brother and Lucy again soon. My Luke died today with his head in my lap after having a stroke. It was quiet and he did not seem to be in any discomfort in those final moments. He would have been 9 in October. He was big (one of my friends kids called him a giant dog), but incredibly gentle. He was such a happy dog, a good protector, and a true companion and friend.

Life will be emptier and sadder without him.

Busy, Dogs, Instant Access, Panic Attacks

photo (5)Life’s been busy. For whatever reason, writing has not been an easy for the past few months wherever I’ve tried to write…it’s been like banging my head into a wall. It’s been a little easier the past few weeks offline, so we’ll see how it goes here.

Luke and Leia have adjusted to life without Lucy even if I still occasionally look for her in the middle of the night. Luke was diagnosed with cancer in June. It’s fast spreading and there’s not much to be done, other than to keep him comfortable. So far, he is doing okay and does not seem to be in any discomfort.

One of the drawbacks I believe to the instant-information-age we live in is that we think sometimes we know the whole story about a situation or news event when in reality we don’t…we merely know whatever our media outlet of choice is sharing with us, and that information can, and often does, change minute by minute if a situation is ongoing. I can feel myself drawn in and then tossed around as the updates come, anxiety building.

I’m beginning to think that’s not necessarily healthy.

Not that we shouldn’t be informed about what’s going on, but rather that we sit obsessed and brooding over situations (1) that we have no control over; (2) where facts are not being presented but rather ever-changing guesses about what’s happening; and (3) that are emotionally charged and volatile.

Anyway.

I’ve written before here about how Sunday mornings tend to be stressful for me and that hasn’t changed. Last Sunday morning I had a panic attack during church. Yes, there was a trigger. No, it wasn’t the message. It’s only Friday and I can already feel the anxiety building. I don’t really know if I can go back after it or not. The memories and trying to process through them continues to be difficult. Some days I feel like I’m riding an emotional roller coaster…and I’m not enjoying it.

I miss her

imageI said goodbye to my Lucy Monday. She was 15 years old and a wonderful friend. She came to me battered and bruised and spent the first six weeks I had her recovering physically from what had been done to her at the vets. It took some time, patience and love, but once she decided I was hers, she was as faithful and true as a dog can be. Every afternoon she was waiting for me at the back gate when I came home from work and she was always happy to see me and full of kisses and wags and rubs.

In the middle of the night when the bad dreams came, she was always there next to me, helping and loving as only a dog can.

She will be missed.

early morning irrigation

Another sleepless night which shouldn’t matter since it is Spring Break, but does because the irrigation man turned on the water just before 6 this morning which excited the dogs into a frenzy and guaranteed that sleep was not going to happen anytime soon.

A little over three hours later and the water is turned off, the yard looks like a pond, and the dogs are happily frolicking in the muddy mess.

And I’m tired.

I’ve decided to wait until tomorrow to mop floors and wash bedding.

Irrigation this early on Monday morning means warmer weather is arriving. It was getting light out by 6:30 this morning and will stay that way until close to 7 tonight. Temperatures in the 80s and even 90s this week herald spring more than all the baseball games and calendars ever could.

Now’s the waiting time, for the water to recede, and the warmth to envelope me with the promise of hope and new life.

I want that, more than I can possibly express.

And yet the journey to that place feels overwhelmingly difficult, and lined with failures and detours.

The water begins to recede a bit and I can see the new growth in the grass, lighter green in color, poking above the surface. There’s a beauty in nature that can never be recreated or imitated no matter how hard we try.

And I feel the weight again of the memories, the feelings, the burdens, and wonder if there is any place of beauty for one like me.