Unfortunately, this isn't a DIY post or creative idea. In fact, I never
saw myself writing this, but I felt the need to do this Memoir for my little
friend Toby; perhaps it’s the closure I’ve needed.
The week that I lost my furry friend I had a writing assignment due, the
topic: An Idea of Death.
My
professor gave me the option to write on another subject, but I assured her
that I like to write from experience and, considering my circumstances, I had a
thing or two to say about the subject.
It went a little like this:*
My experiences on dealing with death are very limited. It’s not that I’d never experienced death- it’s just my experiences are vague and admittedly, didn’t touch me as deeply as they should. At least, I don’t remember, probably because it’s faded with time.
When I was about 5 years old I lost my first puppy. I remember crying, but if you where to ask me what I felt I couldn’t say; I was very young and all I have are very little memories, which I will always cherish. A year later I lost my Great- grandmother. Once again I don’t remember much, but the fact that it was the first time I saw my dad in tears made me sad, and to this day only time.
From then on I knew death was inevitable. I saw individuals lose their companions; friends losing loved ones and loved ones losing life long friends. I considered myself lucky; lucky to be able to say I haven’t lost anyone close to me since then. But, the older I become, the more I take into consideration that that could all change in one day; and I was right.
Toby!
It’s’ impossible to keep from smiling when I hear your darling name. During his last days we didn’t want him to sense our sadness, but it was hard for me to pretend. I was constantly swallowing my emotions. Even then I did not know or remember the pain of losing someone, until I actually lost him.
I had to forget everything I knew about pain. I learned that whatever I’d felt in the past were petty compared to the destructive emotion I felt now. Death is a long process to deal with. The first couple of days I occasionally thought, why? Why could I only visit him in my memories? He should be here with us, he had, at least, a good eight more years to go. I loathed when someone would tell me to think about the good times. NO! I don’t want to think about them, all they do is make me realize I’ll never be able to create new ones. It’s hard to grasp the concept that once someone is gone, it’s forever. Forever is a long time and I’m trying to learn to accept that concept.
My emotions that week were all over the place. A part of me was happy that Toby was no longer suffering. Then I’d get upset; at no one, but I was upset. And of course, I was sad. Nighttime was such heartache; I’d cry until I was exhausted, and be awakened from the sunlight sneaking through the blinds, for a dreaded reality.
I can accept death, it’s inevitable, I understand that it will happen to all of us and I try to live my life the way that makes me the happiest. Doing the things I love, with the people I love. It’s the saying good-bye and learning to live without them that is hard. You can imagine the pain of loss, but you can’t feel it until it happens. Although it’s a cliché it’s true, time heals all.It’s been about a month now. I’m still sad and miss him all the time, but I began to preoccupy myself so that I would avoid the torture of sweet memories. You have to, if not you begin to hear the silence, the final nature of death, and it’s scary.
This unfortunate experience has been a real eye opener. Some of the people I believed would be there for me were nowhere to be found. However, some of the people I never imagined sent me some of the kindest messages and healing words. Thank you all for your sympathies, they really meant a lot.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you; I wish there was a way to know how you are. I look for signs wherever I am, in hopes that they will convey some peace and understanding in the mystery that is death.
Thank
you for the sweet memories, I’ll always love you Mr. Toby.
* Altered version for the blog.
