This morning I sit here listen to sad music with tears running down my face. Last night I had to say goodbye to a old faithful dear friend. My 17 year old Maltese Wagner went to play at Rainbow Bridge. I know maybe some that read this blog today might think I’m crazy and don’t understand why losing my old doggy would be so difficult to me.
You see here’s the thing. I’ve had Wagner in my previous life. I actually had two doggies in my previous life. My other Maltese was Noah. I had to put him to sleep a couple of years ago. His departure wasn’t quite as difficult. Both of them had been with me through some of the most difficult parts of my life but Wagner was the last piece of the life that was ripped from me so I guess not only am I mourning the loss of a friend I’m also mourning the end of that life.
As I was telling this to my daughter last night she said something that was true. That seasons come and go and it was time to tell this season goodbye. I don’t think I ever mourned the passing of my other life. I jumped from that life into another life without taking the time to say goodbye. I spent 20 years in that life which was more time I spent growing up. It doesn’t matter if it was a good or bad life it’s still a loss.
Mourning is a process. Denial and isolation. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. I’ve think for the last 11 years I’ve been living in between the denial and isolation and anger. For the last 11 years I have tried to ignore the fact that my other life was over. I was angry at God for taking that life so I tried to still live in that place although I was married and in another season.
It’s interesting that you can get stuck in the seasons. I feel like I’ve been living in between spring, summer and fall trying to prevent winter from coming. In Spring, everything is new and green and smells so clean. Even though it rains, it causes beautiful flowers to burst forth with wonderful smells and glorious colors. Then summer comes and it’s hot, fun, parties, staying up late and just playing, giving no thought of the coming end. Fall, starts the beginning of the end. The air is still crisp but the leaves have started to turn and fall to the ground. The are brilliant colors of fire red, bright shinning gold, and yellows that seem to glow in the sun.
I thought that if I just ran around and picked up the leaves that were falling from the trees that I could somehow paste them back on the trees and preserve what I had lost. By some way of pasting the leaves back onto the trees, I could make it be spring. Some how I could get back to the loss of the other life.
But life doesn’t work that way. You have to have a winter season. You have to mourn the loss of spring, summer and fall. My winter season has come. It’s time to bury the past, allowing the cold and snow to prune the anger and isolation away and moving me forward to spring when all the branches become brand new!