Heartbreak

We moved to Texas in the beginning of 2011. January 1, to be exact. There were some monumental things that happened in those first few months.

First, we bought a house. After years of living in an apartment while Brian did all of his medical school and residency, I was thrilled.

Second, my daughter (who was 2 at the time) got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. This threw us into a world I knew so little about. The days of sleeping peacefully through the night vanished. We tested her sugar during the day and night, sometimes waiting at length for her low blood sugars to return to normal. It was stressful.

Third, my long-anticipated desire to get a dog felt necessary…and urgent. Not only did I need a dog, I was looking for a diabetic alert dog. I researched and found a local woman who said her labs could be trained to do just that.

Bailey was born in May. A beautiful, mischievous, English Labrador Retriever came home with us in the summer of 2011.

Although some of my kids were initially scared of her big puppy energy, she was quickly beloved by all of us. The diabetic alert thing didn’t really work out the way i had hoped 😂, but she did alert me one time when Annie’s blood sugar was low right before bed. That was good enough for me.

Bailey loved swimming and people—all people. She often escaped our yard to go play with any neighbors who were willing. She swam in multiple pools around the neighborhood, and lounged on whatever outdoor furniture she found comfortable. My front doorbell rang several times with neighbors returning my escape-artist. She got a taste for bunnies, and spent one summer finding their burrows and eating them, one by one. It was hilarious.

She was so sweet to my last baby, even when his “petting” was more like slapping her head over and over again.

For 15 years, my dog was an integral part of our lives. She truly was the best.

Last Wednesday, she couldn’t stand up.

I knew what needed to happen. 😩

We went to the vet, said our last goodbyes, and went home for the first time in 15 years, without my dog.

My heart broke.

Brian and Tucker had a previous engagement, so they left shortly after we came home. I was alone. I went to work. I threw out her bed, cleaned up her food and water bowls and stored them out of sight. I didn’t want to feel as sad as I did. I wanted to stop crying. I wanted stop missing her. I wanted to move on.

I cleaned and scrubbed.

Exhuasted, I went to bed.

My plan was to start fresh the next morning. New day, new life—all that crap.

Well.

I can tell you that my great plan was stupid. It didn’t work at all. I woke up as brokenhearted as I had gone to bed—just with a cleaner home. 🙄 The pristine floors where she used to lay and sleep didn’t bring a new beginning. My entire house was a trigger for a million memories with Bailey from the past 15 years. H.E.A.R.T.B.R.E.A.K.

SIGH.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t already been looking at new dogs.

SHEESH.

What is wrong with me?? I have written a lot about not avoiding your emotions. Cognitively, I know that is right. Emotions come and go, and it is helpful if you let them. Don’t use any vices or distractions to avoid feeling. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Of course.

Yet here I was, doing all the things to avoid my heartbreak. Yes, let’s clean the whole house and pretend you never had a dog—brilliant strategy. Or let’s immediately start browsing websites of breeders near me…anything to distract myself from feeling sad. I’d even tell myself to get it together! It’s just a dog.

So I’m writing this morning, acknowledging that in real life(!) allowing yourself to feel your emotions is difficult. There is a heaviness of grief, and it has settled not only on my heart, but over my house. I don’t like it. Honestly, it feels terrible. But it is what it is. So I’m just going to keep feeling badly for a while. UGH. What I am sure of is that this feeling won’t last forever, thank goodness.

Bailey was the best dog ever.

I miss her.

And she was never just a dog.