2008

In complete honesty, I am glad that 2008 is almost over. The year had its good points for sure -- every year has its highs and lows. But when you wake up one morning and your household is its normal, happy place and then a mere 12 hours later your world is falling apart ... well ... that's pretty low. The loss of our beloved Terra to cancer, an illness we had no idea she had, was such a gut-punch. I will be glad to put the year behind me and look forward to a brighter future in 2009.

Above is a collage I did earlier today using some of my favourite photos from 2008. There's Terra and Gizmo, of course; our son Rob and his girlfriend, Joanna; me and the captain; the captain's mom, sister Heather and her hubby, Mike; the birthday cake we got our son this July; the flowers Heather sent me for my birthday in June; and three photos taken down in Florida in February, including a spectacular sunrise one morning. These photographs all represent what was good about 2008 and what I want to remember about this year. I don't want to close the year with negativity but with this collage of what matters to me and with it, a wish and a hope for a peaceful and happy 2009 filled with love -- not just for my family, but for all of us.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has read my blog this year, either actively or occasionally. I truly appreciate it.

I wish you peace

Christmas Eve has arrived; it's always been my favourite day of the year. I love to sit and look at the tree with all the bright, shiny packages underneath -- treasures still waiting to be discovered. I like Christmas Day of course, especially Christmas morning and Christmas dinner, but Christmas Eve is my personal fave. I am subdued this year, taking it all a day at a time (my progress has been two steps forward, one step back), but I love looking at the presents under our tree and plan to bake my signature shortbread cookies today.

This year, the holiday finds me searching for peace within myself -- and my friends, that is what I wish for you as well. May this holiday and the coming year bring you peace and love in your life.

Doing normal things

As I mentioned in my last post, this week was a week where I would HAVE to get into gear with regards to Christmas. And that’s what’s happened. Is it easy? No. Did I make progress this week, both with seasonal activities and my own physical and emotional wellbeing? Yes. Is my house now decorated for the holiday? Just a bit, not like normal. Are the captain and I feeling festive? No.

We put our Christmas tree up Tuesday night, and that was hard. Ever since our son was a little boy he has helped decorate the tree and even though he’s been a scrooge about it the past few years, it was odd decorating the tree without his help. He has his own tree now, although I bet his girlfriend did most of the decorating. But I already knew this Christmas the captain and I would be decorating the tree ourselves. What I wasn't prepared for was decorating without Terra underfoot. For the past 10 years we’ve had to step over Terra to do the tree -- she would always stretch out in spots where you’d have to step right over her to reach the tree. Tuesday night was difficult for me.

The shopping is thankfully about 99% complete now, with the wrapping still to come. I have always loved wrapping Christmas presents -- I always wanted one of those mall jobs where you get to wrap presents all day long -- so I’m hoping I’ll enjoy it once again.

And there was more sad news this week from our friend Sue -- she lost her Riley, suddenly and unexpectedly, two days ago. The circumstances were similar to Terra, too. In the morning, a happy and apparently healthy dog; in the evening, the news of aggressive and untreatable cancer. What a year.

I have a guardian angel now

It’s been over a week since I’ve posted. The previous days have not been easy ones -- especially today, a sad two-week anniversary -- but I’m doing my best to cope. I’ve left the house exactly twice – once to drive downtown to the pet hospital to pick up Terra and bring her home, forever, and once to the grand opening of a local bakery. My son’s girlfriend asked that I go as the bakery is owned by the parents of one of her friends, and I promised her I would attend their opening day. I thought it would be crowded and I wouldn’t have to interact with anyone, but we got there early in the day and the place was almost empty. But I survived, bought goodies and came home.

I did have one odd experience here at home, one I won’t go into but which prompted the captain to say, “Perhaps you have a guardian angel who doesn’t like to see you cry.” It gave me pause for thought and I think he's right. It's certainly a comforting thought.

I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that my sorrow doesn’t help anyone, especially me as I know I’ve suffered physically because of this. And my sorrow won’t bring Terra back. I have to learn how to combine missing her so much, which makes me sad, with all the happy memories, which make me smile -- and somehow mesh the two together and learn to live with both. It’s taking time, but I have time.

But not a lot of time for Christmas this year. There are gifts to be bought and wrapped, a tree to decorate. I have to get it done and so next week will be a whirlwind. It likely will do me good to get caught up in a whirlwind though.

Despair and distraction, grief and gratitude

I can’t lie; I’m a mess. We came home from the pet hospital Friday evening last week and I’ve not ventured outside since. I don’t want to. This is very rough and I know I have to allow myself to grieve, in my own way and on my own time. I’m just not ready to put on a brave face and rejoin the world, not yet. We asked that Terra be cremated and the ashes returned to us, so until she comes home, finally and forever, I don’t think I will start to feel any closure. I can distract myself with television and the internet, but each day is a bad day. I weighed myself last night and I have lost weight. The grief diet, I guess. Every day though, I feel more and more gratitude for having had the privilege of having Terra in my life and our family; she was so special. And I’m very thankful she went through no prolonged suffering. She had such a happy life. I also want to say thank you to all those who have expressed their sorrow to us and have offered us kindness and comfort in the past several days.