Damn. I couldn’t figure out why I was still awake. I was tired. I nearly dozed off over the computer earlier in the evening. I knew my body and my mind were craving sleep.
Yet at 2:30 in the morning, more than a half hour after hitting the pillow, I could not catch a wink.
It was like that at 3 a.m.
And 3:30.
And 4.
I finally gave up and came out here to sit, sipping chocolate almond milk in the moonlight shining into the family room. And it hit me. One year ago at this same time, you were with us in the bed, struggling to breathe. You were awake all night and so was I, wondering what was wrong and if anyone could help you at the vet’s office the next morning after a difficult weekend, each day more trying than the last.
It’s 4:30 a.m. now. In about 4 hours, it will be official, a year since the day you left us and not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. I wrote a blog about you after we lost you. A lot of people who had lost pets before told me they connected with my words and my love for you. I told a friend the other day how I’ve tried to record a reading of that blog like I have others I’ve read and posted on AudioBoo, but though I’ve made several attempts, I can’t ever seem to get through it all without breaking down. Even after all of this time.
I don’t think I’ve ever loved another being quite as much as you. There will be someone out there reading this right now that won’t get that, but anyone who has bonded with a pet will.
A lot has happened since you were here. Some good, some bad. That book you sat and watched me write at all hours of the night and would shoot me scolding looks over when you wanted me to come to bed instead of stay sitting, eyes glued to my monitor and fingers racing across the keyboard? Well, you’d be proud of your mommy. She shared it with the world. But you and I both know where and how that journey began and no one else, as you sat lounging in your little bed in the office watching me work…but mostly sleeping, your part of the job, and you did it well.
I know it will be a long day. I know it won’t always be easy. You are with me today — in my heart — but that won’t change the fact that I still miss you, Dexter. And my heart still aches for you.
Chris, There is something about the connection between our pets which in essence are truly our best friends. I still grieve each year on the loss of my Micah…she has now been gone seven years and I think of her often. Your Dexter is still with you…he lives in your heart my friend.
Shelby
Thank you, Shelby. I know you’re right, and I feel for you and your loss of Micah. They do have a way of living within us forever. That is so true. ~ Hugs, Chris xo
Dearest Chris… sending hugs! Understand how you feel… they give us unconditional love that is so very precious… Take Care xox
It is one of the most precious loves anywhere, yes. I appreciate the hugs and you taking the time to leave me this sweet note, Deb. Thank you. ~ Chris xo
Dexter would be beyond proud!! Big hugs to you, Chris! xo
I hope you’re right. He certainly saw his mama blush and giggle enough writing it. 🙂 Thank you, Nancy. For everything. ~ Chris xo