Are you waiting for me?

It's been almost a year since you had to leave. I think about you every day. I wonder where you are right now. I wonder if you're running around at the Rainbow Bridge, all happy and full of play, healthy and strong just like you used to be. Knowing you you're probably bullying the other dogs, showing them who's boss. I can picture you playing tug of war over a big stick with a big rottweiler and never giving up, just like before you were plagued with illness and old age, when your bones were still strong and your body free of tumors. I hope you were happy living with us, and I hope you knew, and still know, how much your mommy loves you and how much you enriched our lives. I wonder if you're waiting for me at the Rainbow Bridge. When the day comes, will you come running towards me as fast as you can, tail wagging and eyes smiling? I can picture it. Paws running through the green grass, the wind flying through your beautiful fur, your mouth open in a wide grin and the tongue hanging out. If you do, I'll wrap my arms around you and press my face into your fur just below your ear, where your fur is the softest and you smell like you. I'll inhale your scent and nuzzle you and feel your warmth and softness, just like before. Then we'll play some tug of war with a stick, your very favourite game. Make up for lost time. I wish I knew just where you are, so I would know for certain that we will see each other again, since the thought of never seeing you again is too much to bare. A lot of people wouldn't get it. You were "just a dog", they'd say. But anyone who's ever had a dog that they loved just as much as they were your own child would get it. Anyone who feels happiness and tranquility when they look into a dog's eyes would get it. Those of us who get so much more out of a pure creature like a dog than we do out of people know that your dog could never be "just a dog". As any devoted dog owner knows your dog occupies a special corner of your heart, and when they die it breaks and you feel like you will never be the same again. So I hope you're up there waiting for me at the bridge, and that you're not missing me too much but are too focused on play and making friends to think of me, but that you still look down on me every now and then and even make your presence known. Are you waiting for me my crazy, wonderful girl?

Holiday anxiety

It's that time of the year again...Easter is approaching. For some odd reason I had thought that this year would be different since Easter falls at the end of March and the ice on the lakes is strong, and the weather has been good. It seems that everybody has plans except us, just like at Christmas. Usually November and December are the best months of the years for me, where I feel less anxious and sad. Not so last year. In fact November and December 2012 were months laced with sadness and a growing anxiety as Christmas approached. Now that I have a child it's suddenly become all the more important to have a nice, normal and stable family. Since that is not very likely my anxiety grows as the holidays approach because holidays are for family and for spending time together. I didn't grow up with siblings but I was fortunate enough to have lots of extended family around to spend holidays with. These days when the grandparents aren't around anymore the extended family has scattered with the wind. Each year as Christmas, Midsummer and Easter approach I invariably, secretly wish that we could all spend the holidays together, or at least some of us. It never happens. I suppose I want Noah to feel the sense of belonging that I never felt when I was growing up. A child should be around other children. There should be excitement and magic around the holidays, not just him alone with four adults in a dysfunctional family. I don't want him to grow up to be like me. There should be play and fun and lots of noise and people, not silence. I want that for him. The knowledge that I can't provide that for him on my own makes me feel sad. It is true that for now he really only needs his parents but soon that's not going to be enough. I'm someone who has always hated everything "normal", maybe because things have never been "normal" for me. Right now normal seems pretty good to me. It feels like everybody has plans for the holidays. Skiing in the mountains, going off to a cabin, fishing, egg hunts, big family dinners. We have no plans at all and no funds to really make any. This blog entry is turning into a real pity party, which is not what I intended. My point is that the holidays are hard when you compare yourself to others. It's those damned expectations that you just can't stop yourself from having. Actually no, it's not expectations...it's impulses and association. I associate the holidays with family get-togethers or time spent with friends. Even though it hasn't been that way for many years now that association is pretty hard to break. I should lose touch with my inner child and just forget all the childish expectations. Anyway there are many people out there with far worse problems. So I should just shut up and stop complaining. Just wanted to express the fact that for some people holidays are difficult.