Tag: love

Through the Years

Today marks 8 years that hubby and I met and spent time together for the first time, so we consider this our “first date” anniversary. I had been following him on Twitter for a bit and wanted to formally meet him. So I set up a public group dinner for anyone and everyone and made sure a mutual friend of ours got him to come. We hit it off pretty much as soon as he arrived and the rest, as they say, is history.

It’s taken us a loooong time to get where we are now in our relationship. Like most couples we’ve had a hundred ups and downs. Through the years we’ve learned so much about each other, what works for us, and what doesn’t. But the most important thing we have learned – and still are learning – is how to communicate. I’ve mentioned therapy before and I cannot recommend it enough to anyone. Please don’t think you have to be going through a life changing event or feel you have to be depressed to go to therapy. For me, therapy is helping me communicate better and more clearly when I need, want, am upset or dissatisfied with something or someone. I’m learning more about how other’s communicate (in relation to my own ways) in order to adapt and work, live, and play more effectively with others. Personally, I have learned so much about myself from therapy and it helped release some long term negativity that had been weighing me down for years. With hubby, we’ve grown closer together through our therapy sessions because our therapist has been able to help us see how we feed off each other positively and negatively. She’s given us tools to use when tempers flare and what were previously knock-down, drag-out, week long fights are now usually 5-10 minute discussions on who felt what way and why. And then it’s done. It’s pretty amazing.

We’re not perfect, but we’re definitely getting our groove. We get each other and we make each other laugh. We take care of each other. We know each other. We don’t always agree, but who does and why would we want to? He keeps me chill and messy and I keep him organized and tightly wound. lol. We work. Happy anniversary-ish, babe. I love you.

picture of me and hubby

Saying Goodbye to the Love of Your Life

It’s been six months since we said goodbye.

I didn’t leave the house for the first five or six days save a session with my therapist. She was great – very empathetic and said just enough, but not too much. Just sat there when I needed to just sit there.

Back to the subject….you. My baby girl. I likely won’t remember what happened years from now so I’m writing it down.

About 2:30 a.m. one Saturday morning you fell off the bed trying to get down. I heard you flopping around on the floor and woke up. I went to pick you up and help you stand up and you couldn’t stand on your own. Your legs didn’t seem to work anymore. I tried a few more times and nothing. So I scooped you up and woke up Daniel. We both tried a few more times, but it wasn’t working. You weren’t crying or anything and didn’t seem in pain…you just couldn’t walk. You also couldn’t go outside/stand up to pee, so proceeded to go in the blanket I had you in and all over me. I got your doggie diaper out, put it on you, and decided we’d take you to the vet first thing in the morning. 

We were there at 8 a.m. when they opened. The vet looked at you and felt a bunch of stuff around your back and didn’t think anything was broken. You have arthritis really bad and he thought the arthritis in your back took a hit and maybe pinched your back in a few places. He thought you might get better with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds and wanted to try that for a few days and let him know. He wasn’t sure if your legs/walking would ever come back. That was my first torrential downpour.

We took you home that Saturday and started your medications. We cuddled you all day and night. We had to go to the store to get diapers and other things for you, so we put you in your kennel with lots of blankets so you wouldn’t flop around the hardwoods. When we returned we found you pinned underneath the front bars of your cage with blood on your face, where you had tried to get out. You had a cut on one side of your face and it looked like a possible puncture on the other. That was my second torrential downpour. We cleaned and disinfected your face and looked up what to do online. It didn’t look bad enough to need stitches, so we decided to take you back to the vet on Monday if it didn’t improve.

Your legs and back seemed to be doing a little better with the meds the vet had given us. You were kicking some when lying down and seemed to be trying to walk the more we stood you up. Monday I noticed one of the wounds began to smell a bit. By Monday night it was pretty strong smelling and you were crying out in pain so I decided to take you to the vet first thing Tuesday morning.

When I arrived Tuesday morning the same technician who had helped us on Saturday came and took you from me and asked what was going on. I explained everything and authorized whatever needed to be done to be done. She took you back and said the doctor would examine you and call me. He called a bit later and said he wasn’t sure if the wound was a puncture from the bar or an abscessed tooth or what, but he didn’t want to put you to sleep to find out the condition you were in. He said you seemed worse off neurologically than when you were there before and your legs weren’t getting any better. He felt putting you to sleep was risky in your current state (and you’re also 15 so I always get nervous about that).

He asked if we had thought about future plans for you. Daniel and I had talked about if briefly…if you didn’t get your legs back we didn’t want you to have to live life like that…lying around everywhere….floppy headed….us having to hold your head up for you to eat and drink. That’s no kind of life. I told him that’s what we had discussed and asked him if that’s what he was referring to. He confirmed. I told him we’d be there shortly. He said we didn’t have to do it today, that we could keep you for a day or two, that he had you on good pain meds. But I didn’t want to just love and cry on a doped up zombie of my dog for two more days when I knew what was coming anyway. You had been through enough. Daniel and I went up there and the vet explained what was going to happen. They brought you out to us. We took you outside because it was sunny and you always loved the sun. We hugged you and whispered sweet things to you while he gave you the injection. Then he listened to your heart and told us you were gone.

I cried for days. I didn’t leave the house for a week. The hardest things are the routine things….taking you out to potty before we go somewhere….hearing you tap down the hall to meet me when I walk in the door……not seeing you curled up on the bed when I come home and walk in the bedroom. I see you everywhere – STILL. I am still unpacking things of yours and finding little mementos of you everywhere.

I know it’s going to be ok and I’m going to be ok. It just takes time. And we had each other for such a long time…longer than any other relationship. You outlasted them all, baby girl. I hope I gave you a good life. You were my everything, the love of my life. It’s been six months and it’s a little easier. I still think about you every day and no, I’m nowhere near ready for another dog so please stop asking (the peanut gallery).

I’ll see you again one day and I’ll make sure I bring Baxter. In the mean time have fun with TJ, Cody, Mikey, Teddy, Pepper, Perky and Scooter. I love you.

The Luckiest

The Luckiest
by Ben Folds

I don’t get many things right the first time,
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns the stumbles,
And falls brought me here

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face,
Now I see it every day
And I know

That I am, I am, I am, the luckiest

What if I had been born fifty years before you
In a house on the street
Where you lived
Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike. Would I know?
And in a wide sea of eyes
I see one pair that I recognize
And I know

That I am, I am, I am, the luckiest

I love you more than I have
Ever found the way to say
To you

Next door there’s an old man who lived to his nineties and one day
Passed away in his sleep,
And his wife, she stayed for a couple of days, and passed away
I’m sorry I know that’s a strange way to tell you that I know we belong,
That I know

That I am, I am, I am, the luckiest

Hallelujah

I promise to get back to the writing, but with all that’s going on right now – especially another shooting today – I just need music, love and light. So, here’s Daniel’s video of the launch of the lanterns last night at The Lights Fest. I’ve been watching it over and over in between work hours today when I needed a breather. Remember, I love you.

Here is my plan

A friend on Facebook recently posted this after the election and I fell in love with it and immediately asked if I could share it. Here you go:

Here is my plan. It does no good to say it, but it does do good to do it. I post it here just in case you’re up also for tackling this daily, hourly, active hard work–or in case you want to hold me accountable, days and weeks and years from now. Peace, friends. See you tomorrow. ~ G.h. Burgin Mathews

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