Stumbling in Darkness
Posted Sat, 12/22/07
I feel no relief from the emotional pain, or the terrible void that Foofer's death has left inside of me. It snowed ten inches the other day, and the first thought that entered my mind was: "I can't see the footprints he left behind anymore." I miss him so terribly, so painfully that I have to catch my breath during the day just to have a normal conversation with someone. I see shadows and think maybe, just maybe, he is alive – that he somehow got away from the animal clinic and made it home on his own, healthy and anxious to see me.
I know this is irrational. I don't think I'm losing my mind, although there are times over the last several days when I've considered the possibility. Perhaps it's just a normal grief process, which we all seem to manage differently, yet I cannot see myself ever getting over Foofer's death. I may appear normal on the outside to other people, but the sadness and the pain will linger for as long as I'm alive and breathing.
Foofer wasn't just a dog, a family pet. Very few people fully understand that. I had dogs the entire time I grew up and beyond into adulthood. But no animal, no one individual human being has ever touched my heart and soul like Foofer did. There was a connection with him that I never thought possible, but when it came I recognized it for what it was and treasured it. Now it's gone and I am at a complete loss. How does one take more than a decade of extreme closeness, of same-mindedness and just simply forget it ever existed, or be expected to live any other way and truly be happy?
I feel like I'm walking – no, make that stumbling – along a dark passageway with no light to guide me.