Sedona, Arizona.
The Grief Decides
It’s already been 3 weeks since Rosie died, and although I still have occasional blasts of grief, I feel like the majority of the intensity has lifted. I think about her daily, and miss her terribly, but am already becoming accustomed to her being gone. On one hand it’s a relief that the pain has subsided; on the other hand I’m not ready for the intensity I’ve been feeling for her to soften. It’s confusing.
Among the messages of love and support I’ve received from you all the past few weeks have been story after story of people sharing their experience with having to say goodbye to their beloved pets. Although I don’t find pleasure in anyone else’s loss, I did find comfort knowing that so many of my friends and family have already gone through, and understand, what I’ve been going through. Somehow, suffering lessens when shared.
I have never experienced grief like this before and it’s already taught me a lesson or two. I’ve learned that there’s no one-size-fits-all when it comes to grief—no right or wrong and no should or shouldn’t—it simply is what it is. The grief decides. It leads the way. It ebbs and flows. Sometimes subtle. Sometimes brutal. You can choose to go with the flow or you can try to fight it, but I believe the grief will find you either way.
Owning a pet is such a joy, and losing them is a hefty price, yet I’ve found that price, although painful, to be completely worth it. To me, the depth of love is worth the pain of loss. Similar to Winnie the Pooh’s famous “how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard,” I feel fortunate to have had something worth suffering so deeply for.
Thank you guys for rallying behind me as I’ve navigated this loss. I suspect grief will continue to have its way with me for a bit, but I’m fairly certain that the worst is behind me. I will try my best to reciprocate the same level of love and support you've shown me if you’re ever in need.
Thank you!
“Grief is not a disorder, a disease, or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, spiritual and physical necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.” — Earl Grollman
