Dear ones,
Today is Saturday, and when I awoke, I felt like I had cement in my veins. Wednesday evening of this week, I made the choice to euthanize our geriatric German Shepherd, Ben.
My heart aches so, and there is a big lack of presence in our home now.
Ben was 11 years, 7 months, and 8 days old, 109 pounds, and had been suffering for quite a while. In the past 3 weeks, he took a turn for the worse, deteriorating rapidly. I could see a shift in his awareness, a change signalling body changes leading to death. Even so, I though I had more time with him.
Not to be. I have cried on and off the past 3 days, and only now have I even wanted to write about it.
In many ways Ben was my best friend. He adored me, accepted me, celebrated me, and totally wanted to be with me. Sometimes, I must admit – too much! When I would work at home, he would stand at my office door, snapping at the air – saying “come on! Let’s go DO something!” Often, I would. So he knew just the ways to get my agreement to his wishes.
I used to take him with me to work, with Jessie the Beagle. But as he got older and crankier, it was difficult to have him at the office, because when you had to step over him he would get all bent out of shape!
I also know that Ben’s passing will not be a trigger for me to resume pulling.
Today, I do have the ability to stay present with overwhelming feelings, I do not have to detach through a physiological behavior that alters my awareness profoundly.
The night he died, a part of me just wanted to obliviate. To disappear, dissipate. Years ago, I would have gotten drunk, taken pain pills, whatever, anything, ANYTHING not to feel the pain of loss.
So that evening, when I felt the urge to run, to drown my sorrow, I recognized the need to honor the depth of pain and sorrow, instead of hiding from it.
This is what has transformed my life. Being present for the truth of what is actually happening in this moment.
I did a sitting meditation, maybe 30 minutes or so, aware of my breathing with the lightest touch of attention, and let the feelings simply roll forth like the deluge of a flood.
Ben deserved this. To totally feel him, his passing, my loss, all in honor of this extraordinary canine being that shared our lives for over a decade.
Today, I navigate the deep waters of self so differently than years ago, and in the change, I have found more freedom.
Ben loved nothing more than to go for a ride, I took this picture one-handed while driving.
Dear Ben, thank you for the honor of sharing time in this life with you!
Love, Christina
4 Comments
I’m sorry for your loss, Christina. Take care.
Christina,
I’m so sorry for your loss. Pets are like family and losing one can feel the same as losing a family member. HUGS Leah
Thank you for sharing this and demonstrating that painful emotions don’t always have to be avoided. I’m learning that sometimes grief itself is the healthiest thing. Still, I wish I could lessen the pain for you of losing a dear friend and companion.
What a nice tribute; the picture says it all.
Thanks for acknowledging my post, it really means a lot to me. Ben was a dear beloved companion. And you are so right – walking through difficult emotions is hard, but really, really worth it in the end.