I knew the grief would not end quickly. I knew it would take a great deal of time to work my heart through the pinched hole of pain. In the week after Ghengis died, things started to get brighter. The crying jags were less common, I could laugh and spend time with my friends. I could search for a new puppy.
It hurt, but I figured I was getting on remarkably well.
I did not know that grief would come to me in waves. That my reprieve was only a recession. Ghengis was my comfort when I was sad, He would snuffle my tears, drape himself across my lap and sigh deeply as he curled into me. Stark reality slaps me in the face as I get sad and look for Ghengis to comfort me. He’s not there.
He will never be there.
And my pain folds over on itself.
I am surrounded by people and creatures who love me. David, Maddie and Chester along with my friends and family have been wonderful. Those who know me know what Ghengis meant to me, they may not have understood my relationship with the Littlest of the Fellas, but they knew it was strong.
My friends and family are so comforting and supportive, Chester is an extraordinary diversion for me and Maddie is a calm port in this storm, but nothing can bring my Ghengis back. Nothing they do or say can erase the memories of his pained yelps, or his last three, gasped breaths, or the way he looked when I said my last goodbye and pulled the blanket over his head for the last time.
The grief has come back to me hard these last couple days. It is beating me down. I try to keep it in check, do my job, clean, make dinner, carry on pleasant conversations with people. But it slips in there. I can’t control it.
I want to take back these few weeks. I want to go back and choose to use his collar instead of his harness. I want to choose to stay on the phone with my mom 5 minutes longer. I want to go back and give him all the turkey from the sandwich I had for dinner that night instead of just a few bites. I want to go back to the day I skipped the Frosty Paws because they were pricey and I want to slap myself, he deserved those Frosty Paws and I didn’t buy them.
I want to go back to when he was just 11 weeks old, so small and scared. I want to go back to when he put his tiny snout on my neck and fell asleep and I did not move because I did not want to wake this perfect little dog.
I want my dog back.