I count myself fortunate for all the good that I’ve got. I have a family that loves me here; They see me though all the trials I face. Sometimes I become overwhelmed by how lucky I am, my heart feels weak and I become sad because I don’t know how to express knowing how lucky I am. When I breathe it’s tense and all I want is to die, because I know, in those moments, that that is the happiest I’ve even been in my life.
It’s funny, those moment carried me through my childhood with no notion of wanting something so bleak as death. My grandpa, my mom’s dad, inspired me to live in a way I could never express. He was innocence to me, and he loved me without relent. When he died I spun into the depression that defines me today. The loss of him felt like nothing could refill my heart.
Then, I realized I still had that type of love in my pet Goldie. She was loving and took care of me since I was a little kid. Some nights I would come downstairs at night from my parents’ house, draped in my favorite blanked, and run into the kitchen and wrap Goldie and I in the blanket, and she would sleep beside me and keep me warm.
As I grew up, so did she, but she wasn’t growing older like me, into adolescence and adulthood, she was slowly starting to prepare, so to speak. One day I woke up and she was walking crooked. Apparently she’d had a stroke in the night, and couldn’t walk right anymore.
I took this photo only days before her first stroke. I was growing up, and preparing to move out. She was falling apart, and tried to act like the puppy she was at heart, but her body couldn’t match the love she wanted to share.
As time progressed, in only a few months, she became so ill that we knew either we’d let her stay alive in pain, for our own selfish reasons, or we’d help her by letting her finally go. She refused to die, and today I know she would have lived another year, maybe 2, because she had so much love to give.
On the final day we brought her to the vet, I gave her a big meal, anything she wanted I’d give it to her. I drove her to the vet with my parents following in their car. When we got there they told us which room to go into, and they were ready, but wanted to give us time to say goodbye. She shivered, so much, and kept pressing against my legs, hoping to be pet, showing her love.
Before the vet walked in I took a final photo of her. “I love you Goldie,” I said, “Do you know how much I love you? I love you so much.”
The vet put in the needle and injected the fluid into her. “She’ll finally sleep now” he said. She kept shivering. Her head feel from my knee and slowly moved to the floor, her eyes still open. I wished her eyes would close, so I wouldn’t have to look into her beautiful eyes and feel only memories, and no longer a warmth from her. My Goldie died on the floor of the vet’s office.
We cremated her and spread he ashes throughout the back yard, the places she mainly slept. I was the last to spread the remaining ashes, and I spread them in the last place me played: near the deck. And again, in life I felt that loss of something I couldn’t find ever again.
It wasn’t until nearly 2 years had passed that Emily became the piece in my heart that I had lost twice before. I still miss my Goldie, I still miss my Grandpa, but I know losing them made me appreciate having ever had them. In some odd way I feel that if I hadn’t had that loss, I never would have understood how important they were to me.
I’m sorry if this was bleak. I just want people to know how grateful I am for the love I have, and to know how fragile it is. I want you to just know that love, though it seems grand when you find it, is fragile and can be lost as quickly as it came. Know who you love, let them know. I love you Emily.