I remember reading a Facebook post years ago about a child’s explanation of why dogs (and cats) don’t live as long as humans. The cliffs notes version of this story is that the child said we come here to learn about love, and that because animals are pure love, they don’t have to be here as long as humans…
I remember being awe struck as only truth can when I read that. Animals are pure love.
Since Logan died, Larry and our cat Buggy have been extra attentive to us. They make us laugh, they keep us getting up even when we really don’t want to, and they know when we are sad and snuggle close. They are pure love
This week, our 13-year-old family dog, Baxter, was unable to stand. Upon arriving at the vet they learned that he had a brain tumor and my grandmother made the decision to send him home. She held him, telling him how much he is loved as he crossed the rainbow bridge.
In my weaker moments I call 2017 the year of death (among other very unladylike titles). Starting with my grandfather, then my son, and now our family dog. While two of these deaths were timely and expected, the pain, stress, and grief are still very real… I miss them.
Since joining the bereaved mothers club, I have been witness to a lot of comparing… apparently comparison is a plague even when your child is gone.
- I have had sweet and considerate people tell me about losing their babies and then tell me that they know it isn’t the same, as though the death of their child was less painful because mine went to term, was born, and then died in my arms.
- I have had others tell me that it was merciful that Logan didn’t live longer so I didn’t get more attached (In these situations I just do my best to keep my heart open and remember that this is coming from a place of love even if it doesn’t strike me that way in the moment).
- I have had still others tell me about the death of their parents or other loved ones and again say that they know it is nothing compared to what I have experienced… I have to disagree.
Is losing your child a painful, soul rendering experience? ABSOLUTELY!! Does it matter if they are 6 weeks gestation, term, 2 1/2 days, or 20 years old? I don’t think so. And I think we do a disservice to bereaved people by making these comparisons because it can belittle their grief experience and alienate them.
Last week Brian, my mom, and I went to a candlelight vigil to honor babies lost too soon. Several parents had the incredible strength to stand at the microphone and share their stories and experiences with us. It was such a powerful thing to be part of and witness. No one said words of comparison, it was merely sharing in love and pain to support one another.
Grief has no timeline (I met a couple at the vigil who’s daughter had died in 1983), it doesn’t make sense, and its effects cannot be estimated based on the time we spent with our loved one. Grief is how we express our love after the object of that love is no longer with us on earth. Grief is love. So lets all do ourselves a favor and stop comparison.
Bereaved hearts need to be seen, treated with compassion, and supported.
I am going to miss Baxter. I believe that he is protecting and playing with Logan until I join them, and it brings me peace to know that. He left paw prints on all of our hearts and my life is better because of him <3
Good Things:
- Our dear dear friends Tim and Leah have moved back to Colorado!
- I have the greatest partner imaginable
- I met some new friends at the candlelight vigil