Tribute

I have something new to be thankful for… the outpouring of sympathy and understanding I’ve received since my beloved Jasmine passed on. My readers from outside the USA may have a bit of a tough time understanding, but here in the USA dogs are often considered part of the family. I’ve been touched by the kindness I’ve been shown, starting with the staff at the veterinary clinic. I’ve been comforted by hugs and shared tears with my friends and family. And I’ve also been fortunate not to have to deal with any insensitivity, which is a bit surprising because I don’t expect everyone to understand my specific loss. Maybe it’s just that we’ve all experienced grief, whether it’s the loss of a loved one, the heartbreaking end of a relationship or even being let go from a job.

The day-to-day changes have been the most difficult since all of my routines were built around Jasmine. Going outside in the morning and before bed or strolling to the dam after work were pleasant and significant markers in my daily life that are now possible to do alone but don’t feel right. Still, every day feels a bit less strange than the last, proving that time really does heal all wounds (though slowly). And I’ve been able to keep active, once again thanks to my friends and family. But I still am lacking my usual enthusiasm for my multitude of projects in those hours in which I am alone. Last week I somehow managed to complete a 1.1 update to one of my apps and today I trudged through and got some artwork done for another, but it’s a struggle and my work rate is relatively low.

So I decided to write this, which I knew would bring another wave of sadness over me (grief seems to come in waves with a decreasing frequency). And truth be told I’ve needed tissues as I’ve been writing. But I’m okay with accepting and fully experiencing this feeling of sadness as part of the therapeutic process. Each wave naturally subsides and I always feel a bit better afterwards. I know I felt better after writing my Facebook tribute to Jaz (which required far more tissues due to the freshness of the wound) and maybe this will be one big step toward rekindling my natural enthusiasm for life. Once that’s back I’ll resume my excited ramblings about the many figurative flowers I stop to smell.