Heaven Bound

“I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

I’ve heard this a lot recently. This idea that finality is something we can get ‘ready’ for, that one day we can just go ahead and make the decision to leave behind someone or something that we love as if the weight of that isn’t so goddamn heavy.

I have spent the better part of the last five years trying to understand the depth of loss and the effects it has on a person. I wanted to figure out how to help myself through a time where I often felt like I had blinders on. And what I have learned is that sometimes doing what is right is not always equivalent to doing what is easy.

Tonight, my family and I had to make the heartbreaking choice to put down our dog Mookie. It had been looming over us for several months as we bore witness to his pain and discomfort, knowing in our hurting hearts that we were nearing the end.

But, like I said, we just weren’t ready to say goodbye.

Because we knew how it would go, how the first night would be full of warm tears and hoping this wasn’t real; of the racing thoughts when trying to fall asleep, praying that somehow we’d have the strength to convince ourselves that this didn’t actually happen.

I have always believed that Mookie is part human; I could see it in his eyes. He sensed sadness and fear; knew when to press his big old head to your cheek and give you a kiss. To my family, he was more than just a dog; he was our lifeboat when we felt as though we were drowning.

I think that’s why we held on for so long, and why we did everything we could to keep him here for longer, even when the signs of decline started to appear. He just meant too much to us to let him go.

To anyone who has ever had to make the decision to end your dog’s life, then you know just how much it hurts. Even today, I kept attempting to come up with reasons why it wasn’t time yet. Well, he’s still eating; still drinking. Still wagging his tail. Still trying to get up from the gurney.

But deep down, my heart was telling me that by prolonging his life, I was also prolonging his suffering. And I just couldn’t bear to watch it unfold anymore.

At the end of the day, you are never going to be ready to say goodbye because you are never going to be ready to deal with the aftermath. No one ever is. And that’s okay. Loss may be part of the human experience, but that still doesn’t make it suck any less.

To my sweet baby boy, I’ll miss you with all of my broken pieces. I will continue to long for you and wish I could have you back. But I gain comfort in knowing that you are finally where you are meant to be, which is at peace.

And to my father, you take good care of Dookers up there. I am so grateful to have the two you up there together again❤️💔