Charlie woke me up this morning while tendrils of dreams were still dangling from my sleep. There but already fading.
Dreams slowly creep back into that place where dreams go.
And are soon forgotten.
A person could certainly set their watch by my routines, for they are pretty much the same every day. Some days I go out, some days I don’t.
I tend to Charlie, give him his meds, make sure he is okay.
When I hear him attempting to walk down the doggie steps, I have trained myself to wake up to make sure he doesn’t fall. The vet has cautioned me about this and I try my best not to let him stumble.
I’ve lived a life where many times I never knew what was going to happen from minute to minute. As a child my life was shrouded in mystery and I wasn’t sure of anything.
So now that I’m older, I cling to my routines like a lifeline.
I see it is raining again. I can’t hear it, but the concrete is wet.
The light from the salt lamp is an orange reflection in one of the French door panes. I hear a clock ticking ever so softly. The tree limbs slow dancing are the only movement I see outside.
Charlie is tucked in beside me in my chair as I write. His warm body touches mine.
Sixteen Months Without Abi:
Since Friday I have been thinking about Abi a lot. She’s been gone now 16 months. When I think of her it’s like someone squeezes my heart. I keep thinking: if only I could see her and hold her one more time.
But then I’d want more. Of course I would.
My unwavering grief is like a jolt at first, like the prick of a needle in my arm. Which takes me back, back, to the days when she was slowly fading right in front of my eyes.
Still I took her to the vet each day for sustenance, hoping against hope that she would get better.
Her kidneys were failing, getting worse every day.
And when she didn’t get better, there was that unbearable and excruciating sight of that light in her eyes slowly receding. Until the lights went out and she was gone.
The Light Of My Life:
Abi was the light of my life, and in that place there is darkness because nothing could possibly replace her.
I live with the loss as one does with any loss. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other.
But never will I stop missing her. That bundle of energy that brought me such laughter and delight.
I wonder if Charlie remembers Abi? If he misses her?
I don’t let him see the tears. There is no point in upsetting him. I force myself to rein the grief in because I must focus on his needs now.