5.14.2009

Slowly grieving




Malayna has been pretty emotional these days, crying at the littlest things, quietly sucking her thumb, needing more hugs and cuddles than usual. She's been crying when Jimmy leaves for work in the morning, when mom-mom goes home, and when I drop her off at school. She talks about Luco often during the day, and always before going to sleep at night. Every night she tells me she misses him and wishes he could come back. I tell her I do, too.

Every time we come home, she says "I still expect Luco to be there." He would lie by the front door, and when I would put the key in the lock we would hear him scramble to get up off the wood floor. Because of this, I would open the door slowly. I still do. I am reminded every time I open that door that he's not here anymore.

It's the little things that get me. No more dog bowls in the kitchen, no hearing him shift around and sigh during the night, no companion for me while Malayna's at school and Jimmy's at work, no furry face begging for scraps at the dining room table. I miss his sweet face and his silky ears that I would kiss before going out. I miss him keeping us company while we sit on the porch (one of his very favorite places to be). I miss him acting like a puppy when Jimmy would come home from work, jumping and wagging his tail.

The house feels so empty when it's just me here. I'm reminded every morning that he's gone - he would sleep by Jimmy's side of the bed, and would stay there until Malayna woke up. He would go into her room and lie on her floor while she was getting dressed, and then follow us downstairs. He was so big that he would be in the way, and we'd have to squeeze into a tiny space to help Malayna get dressed. It would be slightly annoying, but now there's too much room in there. I miss his big, old, furry presence.

I've been thinking about how to write a post about Luco - about how incredibly awesome he was and how much he meant to us. How he was our first baby. How he was so gentle and patient with Malayna. How sweet he was. I just can't seem to do it. I can't yet find the words.

We're going to have a memorial service for him soon. We'll plant a tree, bury some of his toys, talk about him, and cry and laugh. We have his ashes, but we haven't told Malayna about them yet. One thing at a time…

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Lisa I can feel the pain in your words. I'm so sorry and I can only imagine how hard it must be. I hope that as time goes on the memories stay with you but the grief subsides.

xoxo
Paula

jess gonacha said...

Oh, Lisa, I'm so so sorry. What a hard thing to go through. A big hug to you all- I'm thinking of you!

Nikki said...

Lisa, after reading your post, I feel your pain. I know it's cliche, but it will get at least a little easier as the time passes. It's wonderful that he shared his life with such a loving family that enjoyed his every fun, silly and loving aspect of his personality.

daisy janie : scoutie girl said...

These pics are so cute, Lisa. I love his big bear face and his wise, old eyes - esp love the one of him looking through the porch railing. So content and happy with his people. I hope you feel better each day, but I know your pain is what it is and it will take as long as it takes. I'm glad he lived his life with you - so he could know as much love in his life as humanly and dogly possible!!

beth said...

I love these photos. You can see his beautiful soul shining through his eyes. I am going through the same empty feelings here after the lose of my Shadow. I'm so sorry for your loss.