Tuesday, October 17, 2006

An Empty Space & Happy Birthday

Ya know, it never ceases to amaze me how when something so traumatic happens life just... well, it just goes on. Laundry has to be done; dinner has to be made... just the little every day “life” things still has to go on.

Yesterday we had to have one of our dogs euthanized. One of the dogs I just had out on my walk with me Saturday morning. She was old, but yet so young. You would have never guessed she was ten years old, even on her worst days. She played and played then played some more. We’d been watching her go downhill for the past week, yet she just plowed right along. She enjoyed our walk so so much Saturday. Her and our other dog just romped and romped together. The house is so empty. I was just talking to Guy, telling him there are so many “not anymores”; no more bedtime and morning rituals, no more picking gobs of dog food up, no more sharing the couch, no more “touch me” nudges; so many “not anymores”. Our other dog is so lost. He doesn’t understand where his sister is; how come we left with her yet came back alone.

We’re all just beside ourselves. There’s too much “space” here now. She was a huge dog. The best dog we ever owned... so smart... too smart... so human it was scary.

I don’t think any of us have any tears left, but I’m sure there will be more, and more, and more, and more... even when we think there aren’t anymore.

Our baby girl is gone, yet life still has to go on.


Edit: I decided to go ahead and make this next bit a part of this post too. It just seemed fitting.

Warning: Very raw “stuff” follows. Read at your own risk! Those who don’t like it can just move on and take your freaking ideas on what I should post on OUR blog right back out the door with you. DO NOT F*** with me on this!!

Happy Birthday

On this day in 1938, hard to believe you would be 68. You didn’t know love until you met your would be wife. She then would give you the life you always dreamt of. She would give you her unconditional love that you never had as a child. Later she gave you your first child, a son that would love you unconditionally and in turn you would do the same. You finally knew what it was to be loved.

You didn’t have the “normal” childhood, you see. You didn’t have a stable home. You were shifted around from place to place. You were struck way too often by the hands that were supposed to love you.

Of your childhood you learned this is not the way to build a home; this was not the way to treat a child. You learned so much from your childhood. From an early age you learned how a child was supposed to be treated; not the way you and your sister were treated. A five year old wasn’t meant to be left at home to feed and change the diaper of a newborn baby girl while the parents were out getting drunk.

You saw how not to treat a woman; you now knew how to treat your wife, by not what you saw, but rather what you didn’t see. You were so much better than those people that were your “parents”. They weren’t a mother and a father; they didn’t deserve that title.

Three years later it was time to complete your family. You finally had your little girl. In your eyes now your family was complete. You had a wife to love that loved you back more and more with each passing day. You had a son that worshiped the ground you walked on; not because you were “dad”, but because you earned that. You had a little girl that loved her daddy more than life itself; not because you were “daddy”, but because you earned it.

You taught by example. You didn’t preach “do as I say”. You taught “do as I do”. You never knew what church was as a child or a young man. Not until you met your wife did you know there was another life out there. You chose this life over the one you knew. This is what you wanted for your family. Somehow through your messed up childhood you learned how to build a family; how to build a home. This just shows what an extraordinary man you were; to grow up the way you did, but to know that it wasn’t right; to know there was more.

You vowed to build a stable home for your children and your wife. You vowed they would never be struck by the hand that’s supposed to love them. You stood true to all your promises; all your vows. A hand was never laid upon them. You earned their respect as you vowed you would. You taught your children how be respectable human beings by being one yourself. You took your life as a child and used it to show your children what is right and what is wrong; to show your children how to love.

Today is your birthday, Daddy. I honor your life; I honor your memory. Next month will be three years since your passing. Three long years without my daddy, but I feel your presence every single moment; I feel you holding my hand.

I know you met P at heavens’ gates at 4:10 yesterday afternoon. I know you welcomed her with open arms. I know her bark was telling you she was home finally, and like you, no more was she suffering. You and P take care of each other, Daddy.

B says he’s wishing you Happy Birthday today too. He misses his grand dad.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

All my love,
Your little girl (for always)

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