Jozee
3/12/11-7/12/15
On July 12, 2015, we lost our sweet girl to a tragic accident. The details are too painful to mention at this time, but it was sudden and unexpected. Alex and I immediately fell apart and fell into a deep sorrowful state. My heart had been ripped out. I had trouble coping and could not see my way out of this pain in my heart. Recognizing my pain and sorrow, my close friends, family and husband graciously helped me cope. They stayed close, we'd talked things out. They were so understanding, and I realized that I was not alone. I am truly grateful to them. I meant and still means the world to me. My grandchildren helped as well they showed me that I had so much to be grateful for. They were fresh and happy. They made me laugh. I also leaned on my yoga practice. I would drag myself to class and come out exhausted, too tired and spent to grieve.
I hated waking up in the morning because I would immediately sink into a bleak helplessness of pain and sorrow. I hated going to bed at night because climbing into bed alone was just heart wrenching. Pain was consuming my heart and soul. It drained me. I was clearly stunned, paralyzed with grief. The tears rolled down my cheeks almost constantly, I could not make plans, I barely got through each day. Everything I did, everywhere I went and all my routine tasks reminded me of her absence.
I wanted to just caress her, feel her warmth, stroke her coat, hear her bark, smell her again. It was agonizing. I could pull it together for a short periods of, time but as soon as I was alone, I fell apart.
As those in my outer circle of friends found out, I would relive the event and stir up those dreaded feelings and my longing for her. Alex and I received such kindness from friends, there were gestures of love and caring, of true friendship. We were overwhelmed with gratitude.
Alex and I did our best to go with our life, each of us suffering, but putting on a brave face to face the world. In the fall, we went to Key West and visited family, it is all a blur. I was going through the motions of life but not involved in it. I felt that I had lost my personality, fun was elusive and pointless. This grief really sucked the life out of me, the thought of ever having to go through this again removed any notion of getting another pup. Many people, however suggested jut that. I do not know how many times I was told that the only solution to my emotional state was to get another dog. No, that was not an option. I just wanted our Jozee, no other dog, I could not imagine it. My love and devotion was only for Jozee. I could not see me having the energy to take on the responsibility of a dog, let alone, a puppy. Alex, however told me often that he would like a dog someday. I could not fathom it.
Part of my time alone in my sadness, I would pretend that I was getting a dog, it was somehow a soothing notion. Also because Alex wanted a pup. It was all pretend in my mind, because I was not capable of caring for a dog or puppy. I could barely care for myself, let alone a puppy. However, painfully, I searched the Internet for breeders, I even wrote them asking for ways to cope and to let me know if they had a liter in the spring. I poured over puppy faces and photos of dachshunds. Everyone I contacted was lovely, supportive, and so sorry. They were helpful too and again I would hear that it would be "Best if you get a new pup, it is the only cure." Humph. I seemed to give me hope that this fog would someday lift and I would be me again.
Wintertime came and eventually, I found that I was coming around emotionally. The bouts of grief were a little farther apart and I felt like the cloud was lifting. I laughed here and there again. I became more active, skiing, yoga, walking. I experienced some energy bursts. The fog and haze continued to lift. I made a serious attempt to focus on helping myself, finally. I directly and actively forced myself to make positive changes. Made plans, saw friends, got involved again. I still had surprise bouts of grief and tears, but manageable now.
Springtime, renewal, rebirth.
It was surly time to emerge from this miserable funk. I found out that forcing myself to forget the hole in my being does not work. Forcing myself to live with it and distract myself is slightly better.
Now, fast forward to today, Saturday, 4-23-16, because tomorrow we are going to pick up our new 10 week old pup, "McNalty". At the beginning of March, I got an email from one of the breeders that I had contacted during some of my in my darkest moments. She said she had a puppy that was born on 2-14-16 and needed a home and she wondered if I would be interested. I scrolled down the page to see this sweet two week old puppy face. I burst into tears, I was not sure what kind of tears. Sad ones or happy ones. I just let it flow. The date this puppy was born marked Fifty years of my mother's passing. (I had been very sad and down that day). I could not believe the connection that I felt to this little soul. All of a sudden things became beyond my control emotionally, I fell head over heals with this sweet ball of fur. It was s sign I felt. Mom sent her to me. When I repeated the story to family and friends the first thing out of their mouths was, your mom sent her to you. I told the breeder that I would call her as soon as I stopped crying. The next night we called her, by the end of our conversation, we owned a puppy. I named her McNalty because it was a name my mom called our dog growing up. "Fuji McNalty" was our dog until I was 17 years old. I lost my Mom 2 years after I lost Fuji. It was 2-14-66, Valentines Day!
So here we go on a new adventure with a new little love in our life. I feel excited, I feel blessed, I feel a new chapter opening up. I feel renewed.
I also feel sad, missing our Jozee girl, deep inside me I continue to grieve. It rises up at moments that are unexpected, like now, today and I am sure, again tomorrow and so on.
