Skip to main content

A Hole in My Heart Where Sandy Should Be


The past two days have passed with little joy and I find that I'm restless and cannot focus. I don't like being home because of the thousand reminders of my sweet Sandy and yet I can't be away because I don't feel like engaging in anything other than my own personal sorrow. Yes, she was 'just a dog' but oh what a dog she was. . .

I learned a lot about loyalty and unconditional love from Sandy. And in that, I believe that God gives us these loving dogs so that we can learn a little about His love for us - that unconditional love. Even on my worst day when I might not have been paying much attention to Sandy, she was still there and still loving. Wow.

There is no doubt in my mind that putting her down and out of her misery was the right thing for Sandy - she must have been so riddled with cancer and in such pain. Her last day she couldn't even keep water down; I imagine that her entire body must have been affected by the cancer. Then I think back to her last days or weeks or even months and imagine the pain she must have endured (as if I needed more to make me feel bad?) - why didn't I see it sooner and help ease her discomfort? She didn't complain though she did move more slowly and in the last couple years no longer leaped onto the bed or out of the car. I could learn from that kind of grace.

Matthew and I buried her in our backyard so she will always be close and part of this home. It was such a sign of love that Matthew, without hesitation and having just returned for two-a-days, without complaint took up his shovel and began the painful task of digging. It was 90 degrees, the mosquitoes were swarming and Matthew was already sweaty and tired - but that dear sweet young man labored out of love for his Sandy. Matthew showed incredible strength of character this week - amazing.

I will be grateful for a long, long time to Dr. Jim for coming to our home to put Sandy down. It enabled me to fully grieve and Sandy to be at peace for her last moments on this earth. It was incredibly peaceful - after he administered the shot, she appeared to just go to sleep and I knew that her pain was gone. I bawled at what is my loss because Sandy is now in a better, less painful place.

And at the end of the day, the pain I feel is at my loss and the emptiness felt is because my Sandy is no longer here to fill my heart. The pain is the hole in my heart where Sandy should be - I just need time for the abundant memories of that most wonderful dog to trickle in and fill the hole. It might take awhile because the hole is large but the memories of her short time with us are indeed plentiful.

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Parenting

I just read a post on Facebook regarding the dearth of parenting. The poster was describing a scene where two young girls were pelting rocks at some ducks in our little town and how he observed no parents around telling these girls that it was wrong to torture little innocent animals. Within hours, there were 15 responses - all alluding to a lack of parenting that is evident nearly everywhere today. Stick with me here - because that conversation reminded me of one I'd had recently that might not seem related to parenting at all. It was with my oldest son about his concern about the selfishness of our culture - most recently evident in the Wall Street meltdown. He believes that we are too focused on "Me" and not enough on "We" and if we had a little more focus on the total and just not our part, we would be in a much better place. Still there? Okay, here's the cement that will hold this together - those girls pelting little ducks with rocks weren't likely...

Tough time to be a Pollyanna

Remember when 9/11 was just a date or a number you called in an emergency? Our lives changed dramatically post 9/11. For weeks after that September day, we seemed to walk around in a fog, like the haze that loomed over the now-fallen twin towers. I remember trying to minimize my obsession with the news, trying to keep the three little Piggins away from the enormity of the disaster. Remember when corona was simply a beer best served with a lime wedge? It now and forever will be instead associated with this virus that has upended our world in ways we could never have imagined. This tiny little, microscopic virus has brought the mighty to their knees. It has us quarantined and distancing socially (though I believe we've been doing this emotionally for years) and working from home. As anxiety peaks, our economy tanks. As toilet paper and hand sanitizer flies off the shelves, we are looking for new ways to stock our pantries. A good friend observed, "I never thought I'd...

Emily Post of wheelchair etiquette

I've been in my wheelchair now for over a year - sometimes it seems like 20 and others times seems like days. Depends on a lot of things including my mood for the day (whether my 'get-up-and-go' got up and went), the weather (let's face it even the heartiest of Michiganders don't always want to venture out in blustery, snowy or icy days) and what's on the agenda (if I have a date with my hubby or going to see the not-so-little Piggins). Another variable, about my attitude towards the wheelchair, however is what I believe I will receive from some people when they see me in the wheelchair. What I mean is, some people see ME in a wheelchair and others see me in a WHEELCHAIR. Many times someone will see me coming and give me a look of sorrow or pity - it's a look that gets under my skin and makes me want to scream "You don't see me -I'm not pitiful I'm in a wheelchair!" (actually, what I want to scream sometimes includes a few four-letter...