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.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

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

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...
2 comments
Read more

Ch ... Ch ... Chemo

I was ready. I was prepared. The potential side-effect list was long and one I'd had some familiarity when John went through his treatment.  So I gathered my arsenal. I had my compazine, zofran and antivan. I had my ginger chewables and chicken noodle soup. I was armed and potentially dangerous. So, chemo day with the toxic chemo cocktail starting to do it's job, I envisioned it as either PacMan, eating away at the cancer cells or a Chia Pet, allowing my good cells to thrive. With these visions, (that aren't quite Christmas Eve sugar plums dancing) and tired from the chemo, I went to bed early. Friday, under the watchful eye of my caregiving hubby, I slept most of the day away. Not really hungry but not nauseous either. I spent the majority of the day horizontal on the couch listening to my book on Audible (despite the sleep timer, I probably missed 1/3 of what I 'read'), dozing, answering calls and texts, and snacking.  Perhaps the highlight of the ...
Post a Comment
Read more