Healing

Each day gets a little better.  That's what I told Farm Boy Jr Edition when he come home from my dad's house, hysterically sobbing at 11pm on Wednesday night.  He had gone with his Pap Pap to spend the night so they could leave early for New Jersey to visit my sister.   I wasn't sure if I should let him go, but I let him make his own decision. 

It didn't work out so well and I found myself with a ten yr old room mate late that night.  One that was so sad I could hardly stand it.  He told me he wished he had been prepared.  Well, we'd been talking about it for 2 weeks when we knew that Abby was sick and we'd be making a decision soon.  He said he understood that part, but wished he was more prepared  for how badly it would hurt.  What do you say to that?   Nothing prepares you for how bad saying goodbye will hurt. 

We talked about Rainbow Bridge and I told him that he'll have to trust me when I say...each day gets a little better and soon the pain in your heart lessens and you'll be reminded of all the good memories of the time we had with our special girl.

He finally fell asleep and woke up feeling pretty good and headed up to Jersey to visit my better than sliced bread niece.  If she can't make you feel better, nothing can.   My oldest punk spent the day with her Grandma and I was left.....alone.....in my house.....to look at......this:

It's Goldie Hawn, Gold finger, the Golden Child....the babyshit yellow loveseat where Abby spent her days sprawled out living the good life.  It's empty. 

Then.....I had to deal with this:

This is one sad hound.  The Dairy Farmer slept downstairs with him (because my bed was full of 10 year old boy) the night Abby died.  He said poor Jack moaned...a lot.  Normally, when Abby would vacate the couch (which wasn't often....usually to eat and pee), he would seize the opportunity and haul his big tukus up and take a snooze.  Well, that sofa is empty and he stands in front of it and whines.   But, I told him the same thing I told Jr.....it will get better. 

I spent most of the next day in my craft room, avoiding the living room at all costs.  I wrote  my tribute to my best girl on my blog and let it all go......lots and lots and lots of tears ensued and just as a good cathartic cry will do....I felt the pain lessen, just a little bit. 

The Dairy Farmer and I found ourselves alone that night, both kids overnighting with family and what normally would've been a fun date night turned into a quiet dinner and a somber ride home.   The DF had asked  me when the hurt would go away.  He said if he felt this bad, he couldn't imagine how I must feel.   Sadly, I think I am handling things a bit better.  There is a tiny bit of peace that comes with knowing you did the best thing you could for your best friend.  If we would have let her go another day, she would have been in immense pain and I didn't want that for her.

We made it to the cemetery down the road from our house.  And, we just couldn't make our selves go home.  It's too full of sadness.  Instead, we headed to a friends home and visited with them and enjoyed a beautiful evening. 

When we got home, we made Jack come upstairs and sleep in our room so he wasn't alone.  BIG mistake....huge......he burps and farts and SNORES and when he's snoring he must be dreaming because he runs and runs and runs.  He must be very fast in his own mind.   He finally got tired of the DF  yelling at him and went back downstairs to sleep in peace.

Jr came home from my sister's house Saturday and we had to go through the cleansing cry again.  He wasn't as far along as the rest of us.  He can't stop thinking about the last time he saw her.  

It is  now day 4 and we are starting to smile and laugh again.  Our household is getting back to normal and we have started talking about our next dog.  We are open to whomever God decides to send our way.   Even though this is the worst part about owning a dog, I just can't be without one.  They fulfill our family...no matter how long they are with us.