My love,

It is six months today since your dad and I helped you to the bridge.  I miss you.  I miss you more than words can say.  It has not been easy for me, moving through this time in my life without you.  In fact, these last six moths have shown me how much I relied on you, your joy for life and people, your calm demeanor, your ability to help center me and of course, your unconditional love for me.

I wish I could tell you that I’m fine, but I’m not.  I still have periods of sadness, when I miss you and I still cry.  I will tell you these periods do not go on for days as they did before. They are more like moments.  Sometimes moments strung together, but they are moments.

One thing I think that did help me was I made a place to honor you.  It was something I’d been wanting to do, but I wasn’t quite sure how.  I’d seen how some of our blogging friends had made memorials, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted for you.

About a month ago, I figured it out.

My Memorial to the Most Special Dog I’ve Ever Known.

It’s a little dark, but I know you can see it. The top is your picture, the tin with your ashes and your collar. Below it, is Roxanne’s tin and a Rainbow model. Jenna got the rainbow project last year for Christmas and wasn’t happy with the way she painted it. I knew exactly what to do with it. I added battery operated lights to each shelf and I set that shelf right in front of where Dad and I sit in the living room. It gives me some comfort to look up and see you right there.

I am also looking for signs of you around me.  Auntie Sheena tells me you are here, but my grief is SO strong I cannot feel you. Instead I ‘see’ you in signs.  When speaking with the animal communicator, I asked for a blue feather, you responded that was too easy, you’d send me a bird.  In fact, many days there are birds that stand on the rail of the desk and look in at me.  There’s been a Blue Jay that keeps showing up in the yard.  I take these as signs from you and they make me smile.

Of course, there are also times when I know you come through in Delilah.  Seconds where she lays her head on me like you used to, or she sleeps in a certain position that you did. Those are moments that bring me comfort and make me smile.

So, my love.  Here we are.  Six months gone.  Six months without you.  I’m here, I’m functioning, still standing, just maybe not as tall.

I love you so much.

Mama

Sampson Aragorn Stone – July 30, 2004 – May 8, 2020

Author’s Note: There are books to help you deal with the loss of your pet.  Support groups on Facebook and in real life.  Counselors who can help you work through your grief.  I am working through mine. It is NOT easy. The bond Sampson and I had was extremely deep.  It hurts me to be without him. It hurts me when someone says, “He was in pain.” “You did the right thing.” “He’s in a better place.” Those things might make some people feel better, but not me. 

“Grief is like an ocean, some days it is calm, and some days it can seem endless and come at you in waves.” Author, Jodi Stone.