Love and Loss
August 20, 2006 · by Christine
My dear friends and readers,
I am deeply grateful for the prayers and support I have received through comments, emails, and phone calls. I kept imagining myself surrounded by this circle of light and that was comforting.
All day yesterday I lay on the floor holding Duke, telling him how much I love him, trying to say goodbye. The vet came in the afternoon, she was very compassionate and affirmed our decision based on the test results. We lay him down on the marble tile in front of our fireplace, a favorite place of his because it is cool. First she injected pain killer, then a sedative which made him very sleepy, and then finally the sodium pentathol which released him from his body. I held him the whole time and had a little while to be with his body before the vet took him away. He will be cremated and we will have the ashes in a week or so.
The pain right now is quite awful. Duke was an amazing companion and great teacher and presence in my life. He was ten so lived a very full and good life. The hardest part for me is the suddenness of it all. My head is still spinning over the fact that he seemed fine Thursday morning. It is very hard to have a loved one torn away so quickly. The same thing happened with my mother three years ago when she landed in the ICU quite suddenly and then died five days later. I am aware of the many layers of grief I am carrying being torn open. I feel raw and undone.
I have also been thinking of a poem I wrote last February in wrestling with her death, and it applies to my loss of Duke as well:
Love and Loss
Why do I give my heart over
to things that perish?
Why does everything I love
have to one day
dissolve,
disintegrate
like dust in my fingertips?
Perhaps because
it is the love itself that endures,
sometimes feeling solid like the earth
beneath my feet.
But more often it is like a vast sea
into which I
release
and float
and fear being pulled under.
Or like a fire
burning deep
in my belly,
illuminating
my way in the
darkness.
Many blessings, Christine
Duke, 1996-2006, with profound love for a devoted companion and soul friend, you will be missed beyond measure
Posted in Grief |
August 20th, 2006 at 12:41 pm
Duke has given you the gift of a Never-Ending-Story…..”Love”….pure and holy.
God has given you the gift of “Time”….and in time, your sadness will find its corner inside your heart and you will smile again
“Some people (dogs) come into our lives and quickly go.
Some move our souls to dance.
They awaken us to new understanding
with the passing whisper of their wisdom.
Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon.
They stay in our lives for awhile,
leave footprints on our hearts
and we are never, ever the same.”
-Anonymous
August 20th, 2006 at 8:22 pm
How difficult.
Be nice to yourself while you are grieving ….
August 21st, 2006 at 6:30 am
Receiving Duke’s ashes will help. It takes a long time to grieve the loss of a pet (family member). My beloved cat Saki went quickly as well 4 years ago and despite still having my other two cats, I still cry for Saki. You really reaize how well your animals take care of you as much as we take care of them.
I too have gone through the loss of my mother, which was unexpected, she hadn’t been sick. So I understand the multiple layers of grief. Cry when you need to and keep a daily journal recording memories of the person/pet you’ve lost.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
Shelley
August 21st, 2006 at 7:58 am
Bette, thank you for that wonderful image, the Never Ending Story of love, how perfect for Duke, my luck-dragon. The poem is lovely too.
Thank you Jo(e) for words of acknowledgement, I know that good self-care is more important than ever right now.
Welcome to you Shelly. Our animals are such gifts. Tears have been flowing freely down my cheeks and I love the idea of a journal dedicated to him.
August 21st, 2006 at 1:43 pm
Oh my friend so sweet, and we do love what passes on, but love endures. No wonder you are so lost, his death touching the death of your mom too. Keep grieving. Keep loving.
August 21st, 2006 at 5:56 pm
Oh, Dear One Christine. I am so sorry to hear of Duke’s sudden death. I am the grateful human of one beloved, glorious Midwife dog and three cats. I have just now lighted a candle for you and for Duke, for the Life you have shared together. And smoke rises here from a stick of incense: may you find ways to release and say goodbye even as you remember.
May your dreams bring you healing and wholeness, dear one. Love comes to you from Iowa.
With deep breaths of healing,
Trish
August 21st, 2006 at 6:33 pm
Abi, thank you again, love does endure, burning brightly, sometimes right through us.
Trish, somehow I knew from your writing that you must be beholden to creatures in your life. I will be listening ever more closely to my dreams to hear Duke’s songs to me from Beyond.
With love and blessings, Christine
August 19th, 2007 at 5:43 pm
[…] A year ago today, I spent the day holding our beloved dog Duke as we waited for the vet to come over and put him to sleep. Just a day and a half prior he began to show signs of illness and we discovered he had an aggressive liver cancer that only shows signs when the tumors start to bleed and the animal is near death. It was a terrible day and also a profoundly holy one as I had the privilege of holding his beautiful body as he passed over from this life into the beyond. Duke’s death left a large hole in our lives, he was such an amazing companion and teacher. Even with our sweet Tune, I still miss Duke each day and long to hold him against me one more time. The sadness of this anniversary began to wash over me last night. I don’t know why bearing losses is woven into the fabric of this world, but I do know that we are called to great sorrow over it. It is not enough to praise beauty, we must also cry out and lament that what we love is gone or is not yet. I believe that the spiritual life is holding these two in tension — praise and lament — which is also the way the psalms show us how to pray. […]