It has the power to bring me down.
The day this is posting is the day we had to let Sweet Pea go three years ago. I’m writing it six days in advance, for no other reason than the fact that today, it took me down. In an unexpected way.
I have a lot of random pictures of SP on my computer. I’ve been through them, time and again. It has made me miss her, and in some cases reminded me how much I love her and how much joy she brought to my life. Sometimes it makes me sad. I don’t look at the pictures a lot, but I do have pictures of her up around the house, mostly in frames. I still have one polaroid on my nightstand that has been with me since we moved out of our last house. I dust it off and look at it occasionally, but mostly it makes me feel better to have it there. So there it stays, on the corner of the nightstand, just sitting.
My parents have put in a bathroom in their basement with a raised tub so we can bathe all the dogs easily. She decided to make the bathroom doggy-themed, which will include pictures of all our dogs, from the first to the most recent. So today I was printing out pictures of the dogs to put in frames to hang on the bathroom walls. I put together all the other dogs, but could not decide which of SP’s to use. I asked Hub if he had any other pictures of SP on his computer to look through. He said yes, so I asked him to go through them and pick out the ones he liked. He went and copied everything he had onto a thumb drive and brought it to me, but I asked HIM to look through them first. He claimed he was busy and left the thumb drive on my laptop. For about half an hour I avoided it, then I finally plugged it in. Within minutes of seeing what was on the drive, I started crying. I told him I couldn’t look through them and I furiously started crocheting while tears just ran down my face. Hub got upset that I was upset and said he should have just looked at the pictures and he was sorry. I told him it was my decision to look, but I couldn’t, now that I knew what was on there. It was mostly pictures of SP at the end. When she was already showing signs of pain and distress. When she was already looking at us to relieve her of her pain. She looked old and bloated and sad. It was bad. Hub looked through them, but said he found nothing to use, so I asked him to go through what was on my PC to see if he could pick one he liked. I watched him go through the pictures and realized how hard it was for him. I told him I would find something, but he said he would do it. He picked out two pictures to choose from, then disappeared. I was only able to call out a “thank you” before he basically ran off.
I tried to explain to someone that when you’ve lost someone close to you, you are never the same. You only learn to live this new normal. You learn to live with the gigantic hole in your heart. It never heals, it never gets filled up again, your body just learns to adjust to it. I think sometimes it’s the mind and soul that refuses to adjust. Today my mind and soul are refusing to allow me to adjust. And I just want to cry with the pain.
Miss you so much, Bubba-girl. We both do. We’re so thankful to have had you in our lives for so many years. We’ll love you forever and then some.