not over
I am over loss.
Today, at the end of a day that seemed easy, my parents and our vet made the best decision for my bubba. He was struggling and he was in pain, so we took it away.
The best boy got to see his brother and bestie today. Tank and Raleigh got a reunion and Frank and Grandma got to hug their big boy again.
But what about me
i am stuck at the same place i have been for the last few weeks. sitting in grief so deep and thick it feels like i'm in a swimming pool of molasses. and the faucet turns on again.
it's hard to grieve a best friend who died too young. it's hard to grieve a grandfather who did everything for his granddaughters. it's hard to grieve a pet that has been the best friend for 10 years, through surgeries and leaving home for dream chasing, through late nights studying to early mornings on the couch. and here i am mourning all three
i am done
i feel depleted and empty
i don't want sympathies or answers. I simply want the pain to stop. just for a second. just enough for me to catch my breath.
and i've had a few. in the pursuit of a nurse shark cruising the bottom. in the laugh of one of my students on the boat. in the amazement of a kid looking at a new animal. in the stillness and the crash of the waves, because it means I am home.
I wanted to be home, back in the keys, desperately during my month in Roanoke. Not because I was tired of my family or my pets or the fact that I had no real work--all of that was great. But I wanted to be back to a normal life. My grief needed me back in my normal, in my routine. It needed me back to where the students fill me, and sometimes deplete me--but in the best ways. It needed me here.
But I thought things would be better. And they have been, in ways.
however it didn't stay this way long.
pain in grief is weird. it's all consuming but sometimes silent. it's harsh and honest but humbling.
Today, at the end of a day that seemed easy, my parents and our vet made the best decision for my bubba. He was struggling and he was in pain, so we took it away.
The best boy got to see his brother and bestie today. Tank and Raleigh got a reunion and Frank and Grandma got to hug their big boy again.
But what about me
i am stuck at the same place i have been for the last few weeks. sitting in grief so deep and thick it feels like i'm in a swimming pool of molasses. and the faucet turns on again.
it's hard to grieve a best friend who died too young. it's hard to grieve a grandfather who did everything for his granddaughters. it's hard to grieve a pet that has been the best friend for 10 years, through surgeries and leaving home for dream chasing, through late nights studying to early mornings on the couch. and here i am mourning all three
i am done
i feel depleted and empty
i don't want sympathies or answers. I simply want the pain to stop. just for a second. just enough for me to catch my breath.
and i've had a few. in the pursuit of a nurse shark cruising the bottom. in the laugh of one of my students on the boat. in the amazement of a kid looking at a new animal. in the stillness and the crash of the waves, because it means I am home.
I wanted to be home, back in the keys, desperately during my month in Roanoke. Not because I was tired of my family or my pets or the fact that I had no real work--all of that was great. But I wanted to be back to a normal life. My grief needed me back in my normal, in my routine. It needed me back to where the students fill me, and sometimes deplete me--but in the best ways. It needed me here.
But I thought things would be better. And they have been, in ways.
however it didn't stay this way long.
pain in grief is weird. it's all consuming but sometimes silent. it's harsh and honest but humbling.
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