good bye Toni

Martin’s sweet old cocker spaniel died today.

Well, actually we had to have her put to sleep, but she was very close to going on her own anyway and we just couldn’t stand to have her be so confused and she wasn’t eating and…okay, you know what, let’s not dwell on this.

later on I’ll dig through boxes of photos and come up with some young spry puppy portraits of Toni, but for now, here is the last ever photos of Toni and her loving daddy (These are from two Sundays ago BTW. We were NOT snapping photos of her on the way to the vet’s this morning. That would be creepy)

Toni

Martin is really deeply upset by this. He cried so hard and so loud that it alarmed some patrons and the desk clerk out front. So much so that the vet actually came back in and asked me if he was going to be okay. He got a laugh out of that in the car later as we went to go take our other two dogs to play in the park.

so the answer is, yes, he will be alright. eventually.

until then though….I’m driving

everybody grieves differently

This is one of those things that shouldn’t need to be said, but then again, maybe it does need to get said every once in a long while.

“everyone is different”

I really appreciated all the helpful, sweet, sensitive things that have been posted here in the last few days. The comfort you guys have offered is treasured. But lets all face something rather basic here: you are only reading what I choose to post. You don’t really know me and for anyone to tell me that I need to stop an adoption proceeding because they (my reader) doesn’t feel I’ve “dealt adequately with my grief” is presumptuous and inappropriate.

No I’m not going to to tell you who said it, that’s not your affair. But it brought up something for me that I really wanted to say;

Let’s all try to remember that we don’t really know each other deeply and that we need to all respect each other as rational beings. Give me the benefit of the doubt. You don’t have any idea how often I’ve curled up in a ball and sobbed. You don’t know if I’ve let grief run its course or bottled it up. I may be up one day and down another, or I could swing moment to moment or my “emotionally fragile” day on Friday could have been a blip in an otherwise sunny disposition. You and I don’t spend every day together. The only human being who could adequately assess my mental/emotional state is my husband. He sees me everyday, we commute together, the only time we are apart is during actual work hours.

Each person grieves differently. Each person processes their life experiences differently. Let’s give each other room to be different.

Now if I go completely off the deep end and start typing destructive thoughts or sounding dangerous to you, please go ahead and question that. But I don’t think adopting a child after just over a year from my last failed IVF really constitutes a “failure to give adequate time for grieving”

Thanks to everyone who has posted for being sensitive and kind, even if you may not agree with me. I respect that so much.

I am so blessed

Martin and I were reading a devotional on grief. One of the questions we were supposed to think about was of the “record your feelings from a time when you lost someone dear to you” order. And that’s when it occurred to me:

I’ve never had someone I’m really really close to die.

I’ve never been in a serious accident.

I’ve never had a life threatening illness.

I’ve never been robbed.

I’ve never been hit or physically abused.

I’ve never gone hungry or without shelter.

Is my life perfect? no of course not.

Yes, okay, I’ve had a few surgeries. I’ve lost Grandparents and an Uncle (but I hadn’t seen him in years and never really knew him very well) and few friends (but never anyone I was really really close to at the time).   The last time I remember being grieved enough to howl out my pain was a boy-friend dumping me in my early 20s.  But that outpouring of grief frightened my mother so badly I’ve never let go that way again.

I’ve had a few pets die, but I was too young to really be attached to them the way I am to the pets I have now. Alright, I’ve been through divorce.  But that was a slow, quiet pain.

No I don’t have kids yet. And will probably never have a child of my own body.  and that is it’s own kind of slow creeping grief process.

But, comparatively speaking, I have had an incredibly good, low stress existence.

The rest of my family is another story.   Last week I got a call from my brother who, amongst his other myriad difficulties, now has developed Bell’s Palsy. This is where one side of your face stops working. Your eye doesn’t blink, you don’t control anything on one side of your face. If there is any traceable cause they don’t call it Bell’s Palsy, it’s something else. If the doctor’s can’t figure it out, they call it Bell’s Palsy. *sigh* It sometimes goes away and sometimes stays with you for life. You just have to wait and see which way it’s going to go.

Why Lord? Why on top of everything else that has happened to my brother (in addition to his less than stellar life decisions) why did this have to happen?

Why am I so blessed?