Wednesday, February 3, 2010
i'm fine - not
OK, so today I went about my normal stuff, no issues, chugging along, even being fairly productive, though a tad grumpy. And then - whack - about 2 p.m. out of no where, I'm bawling. I wasn't even thinking about her. It's just the raw emotion of the experience.
I've done a crappy job leading the kids through this one. It's too close still - too painful. Maybe this weekend I gather Liam for an hour or two and do a ceremony for her. Maybe it's OK to let a bit of time pass after the actual dying before the remembering. He's hungry for it - wants to ask tons of questions, and I'm still too raw to handle them. I try. But not really hitting it.
Death is so interesting to Liam - he has endless questions about it. Liam is a child who wears his heart on his sleeve. The night before, when Breton was first injured, I told him it was likely she was going to have to go tomorrow. He sat on the couch with me and we both had a cry for about a minute. Then, simultaneously, we collected ourselves and Liam said, "OK, let's read our book now." I LOVE that boy. So proud of his ability to fully feel things, let the storms pass through him and move on. I hope he can retain that forever.
It has been fascinating to watch the responses to my post about Breton on Facebook. People really love their dogs, and are eager to share with someone the validity of the feeling for their four-legged companion. Laugh all you want about Facebook - I think it's brilliant. It's the modern hug. Course, I've appreciated the real ones I've gotten as well.