I realize that the subject of death and grieving is not typical for me here, but since Gabi, my canine companion of the past 16 years, died just over a week ago, I have experienced a tsunami of grief.
I used to say, flippantly, “I don’t do grief well.” Now that I am in the throes of it I realize what a shallow remark that is and I am sorry I said it. Grief is no trivial matter as anyone who has lost a loved one can attest.
Someone said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.” One of the most devastating aspects of my dog dying is the finality of it. Death is the end. No mas. I will never see her again, never rub her furry head or wet nose. Never go for another walk together. That is OVER. It wasn’t just her life that ended it was OUR life together that died.
Gabi was in her 17th year and I had seen her declining physically for the past two years. I wrote a post about it last August.
Nonetheless when she died last Friday, I was devastated emotionally. I couldn’t comprehend the depth of emotional pain I was experiencing.
First of all, grief isn’t something we encounter regularly. Secondly, I think we often aren’t prepared for it … certainly not its power. I know I was not ready.