They Made a Mistake, She’s Not Coming Home

I received the beautiful urn I purchased for my beloved Bogeys ashes in the mail two days ago.  I was really happy with how it turned out. It was exactly what I had hoped for.  Plus, I had gotten through finals and grade day, which is hard on me because grade day was the day the doctors called to tell me there was nothing more they could do for Jeff. I was feeling pretty good. Bogey would be with Jeff just in time for his five year anniversary.

But about an hour after I opened the package the vet called me.  They told they made a mistake. Even though I paid to have Bogey cremated separately and her ashes returned to me, they cremated her and spread her ashes communally with other dogs somewhere about an hour away.

My Bogey is not coming home to me and I cannot fulfill my promise to Jeff of putting some of Bogey’s ashes with him like he asked me to before he died.

I have been inconsolable these last two days.

I am beyond devastated.

I’ve never asked why me, not when Jeff got sick and died, not when Mom got sick and died, and not when Bogey died.  But this, this mistake, this is making me ask those questions. I wanted my dog back home with me and I wanted to fulfill my wish to my dead husband.

I feel so defeated.

I’ve never felt defeated before so this is a new type of grief for me.  I’ve been trying to figure out why and I think it’s becasue all my sorrow before has been unavoidable tragedy caused by sickness or nature.  Not getting my Bogey back was avoidable and caused by human error that is now irreparable. I didn’t have to feel this pain if somebody had done what they were supposed to do. The pain I feel, and the inability for me to fulfill a promise to my dead husband, is a direct correlation to a person’s incompetence.

This adds to a whole new level of emotions leading up to Christmas and Jeff’s five year anniversary.

What I try to keep telling myself is I did what I was supposed to do. I paid the extra money and requested Bogey’s ashes to be returned to me. I did what I was supposed to do to fulfill Jeff’s wish.

But the reality is, Jeff’s wish and my promise to him will not be fulfilled and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

 The perfect urn that will remain empty.

My beloved Bogey will never come home to me.

Childhood and the Holidays

I remember this overwhelming sense of joy during the holidays when I was a child and into my early adulthood.  As a child, my mother would decorate the entire house for Christmas.  It literally was a wonderland.  I particularly remember she would put these candy garlands up on the door frames and I used to just stare at them and drool.  She also had this little Christmas village she collected and displayed that I loved to sit in front of and create little families and whatnot in my imagination.

As I got into my teens, decorating the house turned into a tradition for my mom and me.  I would help her take everything down from the attic and unpack and unwrap it all.  Then we would spend about a day and a half decorating the entire house.  When I bought my own house, she would come over and help me decorate mine as well, although that would only take us a couple hours, mainly because I was lazy and didn't have nearly as many decorations as she did.  We continued that tradition until she got sick.

My mother also baked around the holidays.  Once I was old enough to help her, somehow the holiday baking morphed into this massive endeavor.  There were staples that we made every year and once she knew I had mastered those on my own, she then started bringing in new recipes.  Some ended up staying in the repertoire and some did not.  At our height, we were probably baking close to a thousand cookies, bars, fudges, and breads in two days.  We would package these confections up in beautiful trays and cellophane and deliver them to our friends and family on either the day before Christmas Eve or Christmas Eve morning.  People always talked about our cookie trays and hoped they would make the list of deliveries.  I baked with my mother until Jeff got sick.

I always looked forward to the holidays and these family traditions.  Once I became a teacher, it was so nice to have at least two weeks off for Christmas.  I knew that I just needed to get through finals week and then I was free, free, free to spend that time with my mother and family.  Once the exhausting holidays were over, I usually still had at least a week to relax and unwind before gearing up for the new semester.

All of that changed once Jeff got sick.  Jeff was diagnosed late October and began radiation and chemotherapy around Thanksgiving.  I did not help my mother bake the year he was diagnosed.  The following year, he went into the hospital December 12th and was in the hospital during finals week, then came home December 22nd, just in time for Christmas.  He died December 29th.  Ever since his diagnosis, things have not been the same for me around the holidays.

Now, instead of looking forward to all of the family traditions and the happiness, I don't feel any joy really.  I still have the stress and exhaustion of finals week.  But instead of the excitement and joy once finals are over, it's more a feeling of gearing up and bracing myself for the emotions.  On top of that, I also need to buck up now that my mom is gone because I'm the one that organizes Christmas and communicates the plans for Christmas with the extended family.

My sister is trying to continue the tradition of holiday baking with her twin daughters on a significantly smaller scale.  She wants me to be involved but it's just too hard and I just get sad, which is not something I want my nieces to witness.  They are children and they deserve to have the same childhood I did, full of excitement and joy, not sadness and loss.

My sister and I also go over to my parents' house to help my dad decorate since Christmas with the family has always been there.  This is also something that I no longer enjoy, since it was something I did with Mom who is now gone.  This and Jeff's death contribute to this overwhelming blanket of sadness that just hangs over me.

But such is life.  I gotta put my big girl panties on and deal with it.

There's a Japanese saying: Shakata ga nai, which means it cannot be helped, nothing can be done about it, it must be endured.

I miss the excitement and happiness around the holidays.

I miss the naivete of never having lost someone close to me because of death.

I miss the simplicity of being a child around the holidays.

I miss my mom and Jeff.

It Is All Right to Move Forward

I've been struggling since my beloved Bogey died.  I started going to therapy again twice a month and have been feeling anxious, especially because I was not there when she died.  I was able to be there when Jeff and my mom both died and I worry that my Bogey felt alone and needed me.

I am also realizing that without a dog in the house, I have so much less responsibility and have more freedom to travel and stay away from the house longer.  I miss my dog so much but I am enjoying the freedom not having a dog provides.  Along with this comes the guilt.  I dreaded the day Bogey would die and I'm having a hard time dealing with the juxtaposition of missing her so very much and enjoying not having the responsibility, which is when the guilt comes.

I am in a pretty good place in my life right now, especially with Wyoming, but for some reason I feel the need to punish myself by allowing guilt and sorrow to dull the happy times.  I understand on an intellectual level what is going on with me, but it is so hard to grapple with the emotions.  I know that a lot of these emotions stem from this specific time of year and the trauma associated with it.  I especially feel guilty around Jeff's anniversary with Wyoming living with me now.

I decided to go back and reread my favorite widow blogger, the blogger who got me through the first two years and who I looked up to for her strength and honesty.  Her husband died suddenly when she was 29 and she is now remarried with two children and hasn't written on her blog since 2016.  Even though she hasn't written in years, I still use her words to help me.

This specific post she wrote has helped me a lot this past week.  Her words remind me that it is all right to move forward, to love another, and to be happy, which is something that I've been struggling with a lot since Wyoming has moved in with me and Bogey died.

I am grateful that there is a community of widows that I may turn to for comfort and advice, even if I've never met them in real life.  That is the beauty of blogging and the widowed community.

Rough Start to the Holidays

It's been a week since my Bogey died suddenly.  This has been a very hard week.

I have such a difficult time emotionally around the holidays.  Jeff went into the hospital right before finals week five years ago and then died December 29th.  It's been very difficult to celebrate Christmas without my mom these past two years.  And now my Bogey died.

I am trying my hardest to handle all of this grief the healthiest way I know how.  I wrote a previous post at the beginning of November detailing the steps I have taken to recover and be happy again and I found myself returning to that post to help me through this next round of grief.  These are the things I'm doing right now:

• I am continuing to go to Pilates regularly even though I am so tired and heavy with grief.  I know in the long run that exercise is helping me.
• I am attempting to eat as healthy as possible, even though the effort it takes to meal prep and cook is exhausting.
• I have an appointment scheduled this month to see my therapist.
• I have been using specific essential oils to help with my grief, specifically Young Living's Release and Joy oils.  
• I also have an appointment to have an emotional release procedure done using Young Living essential oils with the same person who helped me deal with my grief right after Jeff died, the loss of my in-laws, and right before my mom's celebration of life. 

I know that all of these things are helping me because they have helped me deal with my grief in the past, but it doesn't mean that grief gets any easier when you lose a loved one.  The struggle continues to be arduous and tough but I also know that I will come out the other end intact if I take care of myself.

I recently read this quote by Anne Frank, "Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy."

This quote is a wonderful reminder to get out of your tunnel vision of grief and look around at what you have to be grateful for.  I know that when I practice finding three things I'm grateful for every day, it is a tremendous aid in bringing me out of the constant sadness.

I know through experience that taking care of myself and with enough time, the pain will be less sharp.  I need to stay the course and continue to do what is healthy and right for me to be able to get through the difficult holiday season with as much grace as possible and eventually recover.

Goodbye My Beloved Bogey

I can't believe I'm saying this but my dog died November 29th.  She either had a heart attack or seizure while I was at work and by the time Wyoming could get her to the vet, she had already died.  She died exactly one month shy of Jeff's five year anniversary.  She was my last living connection to Jeff.  He was the one to name her Bogey because he loved golf so much.

I guess Jeff just couldn't wait any longer for her.

I've only had her for seven and a half years.  I adopted her a few months after Jeff and I were married.  When I first brought her home, everyone including Jeff told me I got a lemon of a dog.  She was a sixteen pound disaster aesthetically and behaviorally.  But all it took was some tender loving care and some time and she really blossomed.  She was not a perfect dog by any means, but I always called her my diamond in the rough.

After she was cleaned up, Jeff fell in love with her.  She was his constant companion when he was going through radiation and chemotherapy and was right with him when he died.  Then she was my constant companion as we both grieved Jeff.

Wyoming is especially distraught over her death.  They struggled to get along at times but these last couple of months, they really grew to love each other.  He has been home with her everyday since he moved here.  He was still a little rough with her but they were really starting to get along.  He had started teaching her tricks and she would nap with him.  They went on walks and adventures together while I was at work.  He feels guilty that he wasn't able to save her in time and that we got into so many fights over how she should be treated.  He now has lost his two pit bulls and Bogey within two years of each other.  He can't stop crying.  He really grew attached to Bogey and now that she's gone, he regrets how hard he was on her.  He keeps saying that he just wants his buddy back.

I can't stop crying either.  The entire house is full of her.  She has a kennel outside, one in the garage, and one in our bedroom.  She has a bed in front of the fireplace, her toy box by the TV, her chew bones and toys spread throughout the entire house.  She has a water bowl upstairs in our bathroom, and her food dishes downstairs by the kitchen.  Last year, I bought stairs for her to get up on my bed, and she probably has more sweaters and costumes than I can count.  The sweater she was wearing when she died still smells like her.  I've kept it by my bed and continue to smell it.  I am dreading the moment her smell is gone.

I knew how much my dog meant to me, but you really don't notice how much your life revolves around your dog until they're gone.  Her feeding, sleeping, and potty routine are habits that are going to be hard to break.  Not seeing her in the mornings, hanging out with me while I watched TV or read, not having her follow me around the house as I did chores, and not hearing her bark with excitement and run out to greet me when I get home from work is absolutely devastating. 

I loved her so much before Jeff died, then loved her even more after he died, and now she's gone, just like he is.  I don't know what I'm going to do without her, just like I didn't know what to do without him.  But at least when Jeff died, I had Bogey to comfort me.

I hope he was there to greet her and I hope that they are happy together.  I just wish they both didn't leave me so soon.

I gathered up all of her chew bones she had scattered around the house and took this picture a few months before my Bogey died.

I will miss this face forever.