for today there is remorse....
survivors remorse.
we did it, we made it, Jekyll and I, we beat the odds and outlived the dates and guesses his diagnosis predicted. He also outlived the posse we rode with. The gang we were a part of. The others who were like us. Who shared our common dilemma. Those of us who were dying together.
Today was the day we said goodbye to the last of our fellow cancer crew in our terminal cancer gang. Today was his the last day. He died today. He was the last one, save for us.
And for today as my heart aches for their families, I am feeling remorseful to still have my little Jek here, beside me, snuggled together on the bed.
Jekyll and I were a part of a terminal cancer pack who all shared ambiguously fleeting numbered days. Life for all of us centered around Bucket Lists to get to as fast as we could, and a calendar that just had this moment. We were a small group of moms who understood each other because we were all living it together. All suffering silently, hoping today also had a tomorrow and that there was wags, eating, and comfort in them. We could share our fears, our small triumphs, the devastation of bad news when the tests got back. We could confide and congratulate and know we weren't alone in this journey to an end. We swapped stories of the little things, the subtle clues that time was slipping and commiserated on the hopes and plans we couldn't bank on. The inability to plan for long trips, the fear that today isn't guaranteed and tomorrow is more luck than consequence.
Today and yesterday marked the last days for two of our dearest friends beloved companions. Truth is Jekyll never knew them, he was a part of the gang I put us in,, to not feel so alone in a quest that not everyone else understands. Jekyll doesn't need a group to feel as if he belongs, but I do, (did?).
I am so grateful to have this day with my pup. Grateful to have been a part of the path that his fellow cancer friends walked. And most of all I am grateful to have not felt that we walked alone, afraid and quietly worried. For as much as goodbye is blinding in its power to pull your heart away, I have had friends who held my hand, let me sob, and hugged me in the darkest days. I was never alone, even as I too prepare to say goodbye.
Today there is grief in the sadness I know my dear friends are immersed in. Today there is remorse in an ability to have gratitude that I am still here with Jek, and for this moment we are still a part of each others journey, even at the end of others.
More on Jekyll's life, his caner, and his vet moms inability to give up on him, here;
The Turmoil of Contemplating and Deciding How Long To Fight For Your Pets Life.
The Threats To Impending Death and The Vet Moms Promise.
Slowing Down Without Giving Up, Why the last days don't have to last forever.
A Tribute To My Beagle.
My heart goes out to you Sarah and Carol.. Jek and I are with you always.
survivors remorse.
we did it, we made it, Jekyll and I, we beat the odds and outlived the dates and guesses his diagnosis predicted. He also outlived the posse we rode with. The gang we were a part of. The others who were like us. Who shared our common dilemma. Those of us who were dying together.
Today was the day we said goodbye to the last of our fellow cancer crew in our terminal cancer gang. Today was his the last day. He died today. He was the last one, save for us.
And for today as my heart aches for their families, I am feeling remorseful to still have my little Jek here, beside me, snuggled together on the bed.
Jekyll and I were a part of a terminal cancer pack who all shared ambiguously fleeting numbered days. Life for all of us centered around Bucket Lists to get to as fast as we could, and a calendar that just had this moment. We were a small group of moms who understood each other because we were all living it together. All suffering silently, hoping today also had a tomorrow and that there was wags, eating, and comfort in them. We could share our fears, our small triumphs, the devastation of bad news when the tests got back. We could confide and congratulate and know we weren't alone in this journey to an end. We swapped stories of the little things, the subtle clues that time was slipping and commiserated on the hopes and plans we couldn't bank on. The inability to plan for long trips, the fear that today isn't guaranteed and tomorrow is more luck than consequence.
Today and yesterday marked the last days for two of our dearest friends beloved companions. Truth is Jekyll never knew them, he was a part of the gang I put us in,, to not feel so alone in a quest that not everyone else understands. Jekyll doesn't need a group to feel as if he belongs, but I do, (did?).
I am so grateful to have this day with my pup. Grateful to have been a part of the path that his fellow cancer friends walked. And most of all I am grateful to have not felt that we walked alone, afraid and quietly worried. For as much as goodbye is blinding in its power to pull your heart away, I have had friends who held my hand, let me sob, and hugged me in the darkest days. I was never alone, even as I too prepare to say goodbye.
More on Jekyll's life, his caner, and his vet moms inability to give up on him, here;
The Turmoil of Contemplating and Deciding How Long To Fight For Your Pets Life.
The Threats To Impending Death and The Vet Moms Promise.
Slowing Down Without Giving Up, Why the last days don't have to last forever.
A Tribute To My Beagle.
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| This morning.. his happy wiggle to start his good days |
My heart goes out to you and Jekyll. My dog Cody was the first to go in his pack of friends, then a Rottie named Diesel and their Golden retriever bud. But life moved on and today there are 4 puppies on my block who walk together every morning in their honor.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing and I understand you. My beloved Kimmy undergo the dog hospice at first I don't like this procedure but if it's the only way to ease her from the pain, I can give way for it. I still miss her and she wil be forever in our hearts.
ReplyDelete