I used to never cry. Instead I’d suppress my tears and stuff my feelings down deep inside my chest so I didn’t show weakness to anyone. At the time, it was the only way I knew how to cope.
Things have changed a lot since the time. I still don’t cry a lot. And I suspect others would say I lean toward being less expressive vs. emotive. But I don’t surprise my tears anymore.
Since I put Snickers down, I’ve cried every day. It’s different than after my wife died when I was hit with waves of sorrow that dropped me to my knees. Still, it comes in waves, chokes me up and makes my heart, head and chest ache.
I know better than to try to control the waves. I just let them flow.
Eventually it passes.
I’ve been thinking about Snickers a lot every day. When I had made the decision to put her to sleep and was waiting for the appointment, I tried to prep myself for the grief.
It doesn’t work.
I could think about it all I wanted. I could come up with rationalizations and reasons for why I was putting my dog down and why I would miss her. I theorized that the reason I felt so despondent was tied up in my wife’s death in addition to Snickers.
That’s all somewhat reasonable to think.
Until the waves come. Because then thinking doesn’t matter. It’s feeling.
I feel better than I had anticipated, sooner than I anticipated. Snickers has been gone for 6 days and most of the time, I feel pretty good.
I don’t feel good that she had canine dementia. I don’t feel good that my little baby suffered. I don’t feel good that she’s gone.
But I also don’t feel like life is meaningless or that I have no purpose.
I miss her everyday.
Of course I do – I could list a dozen reasons why.
But I won’t. It will just make me cry.