What grief taught me


Out of nowhere, a catastrophe struck. One Saturday, I took my Sage to the emergency vet’s office because he was slightly shivering. I was concerned but not worried. Maybe it was something he ate, maybe he just needed some medication to settle his stomach. He had not been eating his kibbles for a few weeks but ate everything else with relish – chicken, beef, treats, fallen cheese or tit bits while I cooked. So yes, I just wanted some medicine and go home. The vet came out to tell me that things did not look good. The news was devastating really. My beautiful boy had hemangiosarcoma and he did not have time. As she spoke, my brain did not quite process her words. The finality or the severity of what she said did not hit me till they took Sage in for some more conclusive tests. That is when I called Sean and asked him to come meet me at the emergency hospital.

Within a week we said goodbye to our companion for over 10 years. We wanted a week to love him and make sure the family was with him to say final goodbye. He did not seem to be in pain, just very tired. He went quickly and peacefully. It seemed he was ready. His decline in that short week was incredibley fast and heart breaking. On Friday morning, the day he was going to sleep forever, I took him to a park which he always loved since he was a puppy. He did not have any energy so we just sat on a bench and watched Canada geese in the water. He got up a few times to say hello to some humans walking by. He got a few pets and scratches behind his years. He also gave me the stink eye from time to time because he wanted to walk not sit. I sat there looking at him and allowed tears to stream down my face. His life from the day we got him passed by in my mind. So many memories, so much happiness, unconditional love. His love of snow, his frolic in leaves, his play bows and long hikes, his devotion and unconditional love for his humans. When we tried to go back to the car, he could hardly put one foot in front of the other, he was that weak. I knew right then it was time to let him go. We loved him too much to let him continue to lead a life that was no life at all.

The loss of Sage seemed unreal till the next week when I was all alone in the house. The grief of losing him taught me a thing or two about myself. I grieved and yet I was afraid for the world to know I grieved. I told a few friends how I was really feeling – I did not want to get up from bed, I saw him out of the corner of my eye, I anticipated the clickety click of his claws hitting the hardwood floor but when there was silence I was crushed anew. I looked up at his collar and broke down crying. I opened the door to emptiness when I came home from work. I sat on my reading chair and the space beside it remained empty. The empty space just put a dagger through my heart. My hand was restless to pet his furry head because that was our routine. It gave me a glimpse of what depression can feel like. I sat down on a chair and simply could not or did not have the will power to get up from it. When I forced myself to go for walks I felt I could peek out of a chasm of sorrow but coming back to the house drove me right back into a vortex of despair. I felt physically weak, unmotivated and very, very alone.

Yet when friends asked me how I was or whether I wanted company I was afraid to tell them the truth. I said I was doing ok and I knew it was a matter of time and I would be better. I was afraid to burden them with my overwhelming sorrow. I was afraid of being judged, “Wow, she is going overboard grieving a dog.” In the grand scheme of things, Sage’s life did not matter to others as much with all the sadness and devastating things happening in the world. I was comparing my sadness to the vast sorrow that others feel. So I kept it hidden, I put on a brave face and I laughed and carried on, till I came home to an empty house.

I did (and continue to do) my well wishers a disservice. I am projecting my fears of being judged on my friends who truly would sit with me and let me cry. And not only my friends, I was afraid to tell my husband and my children about my grief. I did not want them to feel bad for me or feel responsible for cheering me up.

Then a friend forwarded me an article. The article talked about not trivializing my loss because there are bigger losses out there in the world. It is not a competition. Only through grieving would I find peace.

I will not get over the loss ever. I know I will heal, I will find peace and I feel I am on my way there. But this loss will always be part of me as will the 10 years of unconditional love that the universe gifted me in the form of Sage. What a gift I was given!

2 thoughts on “What grief taught me

  1. Grieving after losing someone like Sage can never be ‘judgemental’. I think about him often and love to see his photos. Even though I have never met him, I love him.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s