Choosing Life
My evenings have been occupied lately not with blog-writing (as well you know) but with new puppies, who take a great deal more attention than I recall them doing. It’s been 7 years since I’ve had a new puppy, and I’ve never had 2 at once before. I think 2 puppies are actually 3 times the work, plus a third dog who needs extra attention so that he doesn’t feel displaced.
Right until I brought them home, I wondered if it was the right decision, or if it was too soon after P’s passing. But I knew that P wouldn’t care one bit if I got a new dog. She’s with A, doing whatever it is dogs do in the next life. So any guilt that I had about it was my own crazy human mind making me miserable for kicks. I could NOT get another dog on principle, and just keep feeling sad, and bad, keep feeling the empty space in the house. But that wouldn’t bring her back, and it wouldn’t do me any good either.
I know that if I really worked at it, I’m sure I could undo all progress I’ve made since A passed. But something inside told me that wasn’t an option here. And it seems to me I have a right to some happiness. I realized that although I miss P, I think I’ve reached my grief limit. Though I’ve had another loss, I just don’t think I can mourn more than I’ve already mourned. While this loss is new, I have been in mourning for 9 1/2 months, and have, in fact, been mourning P herself for a month and a half, from when I was certain I would lose her. I feel like I jumped over all the middle stuff and went right into the missing her, and I wondered why this should be the case. I didn’t figure it out until after.
I had no compelling reason not to get a puppy, so I went ahead and got 2 this past Tuesday night, and I realized within the first night that it was the right choice. Oh, did they make me smile and laugh with their antics and their soft fluffy little kisses! And I realized that I needed that so much. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling sad, and bitter, and weary all the time. I’m tired of the disconnection I still feel from the world around me. It’s ironic that while, through A’s passing, I finally understand the oneness of everything (in concept, if not in detail), I have felt unable to tap into that. I needed that joy and something to make me look forward and be engaged in my life. I feel more like myself, and more involved in my own life, than I have since A passed; I don’t feel like I’m just going through the motions, which is a change. I actually went into work the other day thinking that life was pretty good. That surprised me; A and I said that often to each other, that “Life is good,” but I hadn’t felt that in my heart since he left.
No one can replace P, and that’s not what I was trying to do with these puppies. She was her own furry little person, and I loved her for it, and will always love her. I had a choice, though: I could be miserable, or I could do something I knew would make me happy. If I was going to miss her either way, I may as well do the thing that will give me some consolation in my sadness. It is very, very hard to be negative, crabby, and sad in the presence of puppies. And I have found that rather than make me sad for P every time I look at them, they evoke happy memories of P, since many of their behaviors are reminiscent of hers.
I feared that my vet would think badly of me for getting new puppies so soon. He didn’t. What he said was “Well, you know, there’s death and there’s life. And you’re choosing life. I admire you for that.” And I bless him for saying that.
It’s hard to explain, as so many things in the journey through grief are, but I know that I felt something shift when I brought those fluffballs home. I don’t know if it will last. That’d be nice, but I know the grief rollercoaster too well to assume any such thing. For now, I’ll enjoy it, because it’s a welcome change. And now is all I’ve got.