Grief is a personal thing.As for me, I gain comfort by writing down
what I feel.I won’t share everything I’ve
been writing in the wake of Diesel’s death because I prefer to spread joy
rather than tears.Just the same it has
brought up some parenting concerns that are worth sharing.
with, whenever I have experienced grief in the past, I would curl up in the
fetal position, cry as much as I needed to, and allow myself to wallow until I
came to the surface naturally.This was
Nowadays, if tragedy strikes, I have a one year old who doesn’t
understand such things, who absorbs my emotions, and who is thrown completely
off course when she loses her compass: me.
I’ve had to adopt more of a ‘fake it till you make it’ mentality on the surface.Maybe I still curl up on the couch when I do, but rather than pouring salt on the wound, I'm watching
the funniest thing I can find on Netflix. I'd rather not have her witness me watching a lot of TV, butI do think it’s better
than letting her see me falling completely apart.
I still need to cry, and to grieve, but it’s
a darn sight more controlled that it would have been in my pre-mummy days.
this feels healthier.I’m not hiding my
sadness, I’m just actively working past it in a way I’ve never done before.I’m focusing on happiness rather than wallowing
in the inevitable depression that comes with loss.
also got me thinking, what if Evening was a few years older?We aren’t ever going to be a pet-free
household and that means that at some point, Evening will experience the loss
of a pet.How will I deal with that?
being raised in a religious household, my parents did not believe that animals
have the same after-death hope as humans were offered.When our pets
died, they simply ceased to exist altogether.
seems a little harsh for a kid to comprehend.
to lie about it.I honestly think that
makes it harder on children and confuses them.I remember exactly what my childhood friends thought of the whole ‘going
to live on a farm’ routine, and it wasn’t pretty.
time, I found that I was profoundly comforted by the idea that Diesel was gone,
and despite his violent end, he wasn’t in pain and suffering from his own
demise, he was gone.The pain was
mine.His afterlife really is in my
heart, where he is still purring, mewing at me in his unique voice, tripping me
up to let me know I’m running late with his dinner, blinking lazily, curling
his toes in the hope that I will cuddle with him, and running joyfully to me
when he realizes that I’ve entered the room.
live in enough hearts, you might even have nine lives.
For now, I think that is what I'll be telling Evening.