This will be a quickly-put-together post, my friends. I had a somewhat sleepless and frustrating night, eventually nodding off sometime before dawn, so I didn’t get out of bed until 9 and I’m barely functioning as I wait for the coffee to kick in!
I just couldn’t turn my brain off; some worries floating around in there, but mostly snatches of songs from Anastasia playing over and over, along with memories of our dogs. I couldn’t stop thinking of Winston and Riley and Scout. I guess my mind didn’t want to let go of them. Then this morning, as I tried to go back to sleep once more, memories of living in Cambridge and teaching at Boston University.
A very strange night.
More of these gorgeous daylilies. There are two plants in the side garden bed. This one just started blooming yesterday.
This is the first time that milkweed has popped up in the front yard. This one is right by the stone edging of the big garden bed. Maybe, oh please, I’ll see a caterpillar?
The spirea has finished blooming for the most part, but there are a few valiant blooms popping up her and there. The teeny tiny bugs seem to like this one.
I miss our dogs. And Scout has been on my mind daily, but especially during the past week. I can recreate the scent of her head when I would lean down to kiss her. I can feel the texture of her coat. I remember the quirky things she did. I really miss taking pictures of her. She was so much a part of this blog that I sometimes feel part of the life of the blog has died. And, of course, though Don and I get along famously and love being together, the cottage seems empty. Scoutie was the heart and soul of this place.
We are not ready to adopt another dog, so please don’t suggest it, my friends. We’ll know when it’s time. We want to travel a bit in the next year. We want to make sure we’re ready when it is time to adopt. And our hearts are still broken. It’s only been five months since she left us.
Damn. Life has been very hard for the past couple of years and the shadow of loss is there all the time. It just takes over every once and a while.
Happy Thursday.
I hate nights like that when I can’t turn off my brain. I relive things and think about those I miss and always my Sweet Charlie Kitty. Maybe today will be a better day my sweet friend. I’ve been lucky to have Mr. Toes staying with me and it’s eased the loss a little bit but made it worse in other ways. I’ll know after he leaves if it’s time for another kitty….but not yet. I had a good Dr’s visit and I’m healing well, but still taking it easy as I am low on energy most of the time. The heat doesn’t help. Thinking of you and Don today.
hugs,
Linda
I understand – having Mr. Toes is lovely, but seeing him reminds you that Charlie isn’t with you anymore. It’s tough. Take care, my friend – heal and be patient. I remember my energy being low for quite a while. It can be frustrating. xoxo
I’m sorry to hear you had a bad night …and I know there is nothing I can say to make you feel better. Most of the time, happy memories can be a healing force. I am wishing that for you! Perhaps a nap will be in order? ;)
Maybe. But you know, napping is a rare thing these days. I can only nap when I’m really not feeling well. So, I’ll most likely simply hang in there. I’m getting my hair cut today – it’s been way too long since I had it trimmed. At least I’ll feel like I look better!
Well…I know if I nap too long…then I can’t sleep at night! Going to the salon might be just what you need! ;)
Well, my hair sure needs something!
;) xo
Take care
Thank you, dear Doris.
I think your memory garden for Scout is a wonderful idea. Since reading your blog, I thought of making a memory garden for our dear Spot, a border collie we had for seventeen years. We lost him ten years ago but it still seems like at times he is standing beside me ready to run! I thought some Lantana and Day Lillies would be nice. We have another dear dog, but we still think of Spot quite often. Best wishes for the rest of the day. (My son lives in Cambridge and loves it!)
It seems to me that border collies live a long time. Scout was a border collie and she was seventeen when she died. Another friend of ours had a border collie who lived to be at least eighteen years old. A memory garden is a good idea, Lottie. I think you should do that. It’s nice to see something tangible that reminds us of our loved ones.
I LOVED living in Cambridge. I still miss living there!
Yeah, that’s a consideration when bringing in a new pet. With modern veterinary medicine and good care at home, dogs and cats are living longer. In these last years, my cat grew to age 19; my one dog almost 16. I have a friend who grew a poodle to age 18. You can figure on a at-least 10-year commitment in most normal cases. I’m currently (for 9 years) feeding a feral cat who the vet thinks is easily age 13 and she gets nothing from me but healthy food and water (since she will no longer get near a humane trap [trap, treat and release] so that I can get her care she needs [immunize/de-flea/teeth-check/etc.]). So, there’s an animal exposed to the elements and predators and rampant feline disease, living in the bushes of a hillside, with the most borderline/minimal care, and look at how old she is! Pet ‘ownership’ isn’t without a time commitment, in terms of years, along with costs of care, sometimes more difficult in our retirement years when some of us are (or will be soon) on fixed/reduced income. I feel it’s a bigger decision for us in these ‘older’ years whereas when my husband and I were much younger, we adopted multiple pets and never seemed to have less than four at any one time. We also had two incomes, full incomes, back then. If a dog with a tendency to bolt ever got out, we had youth and vigor to run after them and corral them. My back, in those years, could take the abuse of bending over several litter boxes that needed to be cleaned out a few times per day. Time passes, things change. An option I see for myself as a senior is to adopt a senior pet…except that when a pet is a senior, that’s also when you often run into the greater veterinary expense (health dilemmas of old age, just like a human). I know of a case or two where the senior-aged human has had to move to a different type of housing where a pet cannot be taken. But I also know we can’t plan for every scenario, it depends so much on circumstance from this point forward; the right pet at the right time. In the meantime, there are zillions of dogs and cats, abandoned or in shelters all over the world, needing a good home, right now; today.
All legitimate things we have to think of. I’d probably adopt an older pet, maybe not senior, but older. xo
Claudia, I’m so sorry that you had to go thru yet another sleepless night filled with these thoughts. I know words don’t change anything but I too understand so much how you’re feeling. We lost our little Nash in December of 2012, whom had been with us for 15 years since he was 6 weeks old. He was my heart. We adopted our Mister McConaughey in March of 2006 and lost him last September. He was so very special and he carried me through the loss of Nash and made that space for himself in my heart a bit larger. My husband and I talk about the both of them almost on a daily basis. I still dream of them both very often. I recently came across Mister’s little rug he used for eating with the words “Sheriff”. Boy was he the sheriff of this house.
Everyone keeps telling us to adopt another baby and I know that we will one day but we are not ready. I know that I’m still grieving for Nash and it will soon be 4 years since he left us. It’s not been a year yet for Mister and I still smell him all over our home.
It’s so very hard and it seems like the grief just goes on forever. I’m praying and hoping that you and Don both find peace today or very soon. Sending good thoughts your way. Have a lovely day.
Thank you for your kind words, Belinda. I’m so sorry for the loss of both Nash and Mister McConaughey. Our hearts are never the same after the loss of a beloved family member. I know that people urge us to adopt another dog/cat with the best of intentions, but everyone has their own way of grieving. There had to be room in our hearts for another one, and the grieving process is different for everyone. I’m sending you a big hug, Belinda. xo
I’m sorry you had a sleepless night, Claudia. I have been having those nights too, especially around my wedding anniversary. Working on the memory quilts helps and hurts. I also miss the cats who used to live with me. We have found two cat sculptures for our garden and need one more so we can represent all the kitties who used to live with us. I hope your heart isn’t as heavy in the coming days.
I think the cat sculptures will be a perfect way of celebrating your beloved pets, Wendy. Thank you for your kind words.
Sleepless nights throw everything off balance for me. Sometime I just have to plod through it, naps don’t help, until I can get through a good night and feel balanced again. Be gentle with yourself today, Claudia.
I will. Thank you, Karen.
I have experienced nights and dreams such as you described. My friends have too. We think it is part of getting older. By the time we are in our 6o’s and 70’s we have experienced many losses.
Take solace in having lived a good and loving life. You have a lovely home and beautiful gardens. Thank you for sharing them.
It probably does have to do with getting older, Carolyn Marie. There are so many memories. Thank you, Carolyn Marie.
I hate nights like that. Last week my brain wouldn’t leave regrets alone. Sure does make the nights long and days too without lack of sleep. I miss my Abby the grey tabby. She died before Christmas two years ago. Sometimes when I miss her badly, I would pet the bit of fur the vet gave us that is in a metal heart. We do have another kitty now. She is her own kitty. I have never seen a cat chase its tail before. She came when we needed her most. When the time is right, there will come one who would capture your heart. And like you say now is not it.
I’m so glad ou have a kitty that has brought you love and solace, Trina. We waited a long time after Winston died before we adopted Riley. Scout was with us, so that helped. But we had to wait until it was the right time. Thank you.
If dogs are indeed part of the soul and heart of a person’s life, their absence is often felt. I don’t need photos to make me think of them. Sometimes I ‘see them’ in the remaining dog I still have…just those winning canine traits. But I don’t know what you’re going thru. I’ve had dogs in my life for 28 years, never a year without one. In the years before that, I wasn’t accustomed to one, living in rentals as a single gal where I wasn’t allowed a pet, so I only associated a dog with being home as a younger girl with my first family. Now, and having made the decision we’ll, at this age and state of health, not be getting another dog, ever, I have yet to experience the sad, empty nest…and I’m not looking forward to it; I cherish the dog I still have and she’s a mega-huge part of my life as child/companion/protector. I’ve said before, we may change our minds about getting another dog down the road after she’s gone…but we’ll have to have a specific plan of who’ll take care of the dog…no easy answer there…if we no longer can. It’s simply the practical scenario of adopting as an aging ‘senior’ and not wanting the pet to outlive us, being orphaned once again, when we have no appropriate safety net. But of course pets are therapeutic and if you’re a dog or cat lover, being without them is…awful. I’ve now in my married life had a lot of dogs and a lot of cats; I miss every single one. Sometimes I spend the time to think of each one so I actually DON’T forget them. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with saying that pets, to me, were more important than some of the humans who’ve come across my path.
I’m sorry you had a rough night. I hate it when stuff surfaces in the wee hours, robbing sleep. I think the restlessness after a period(s) of loss is to be expected. It happened to me a lot after the sudden death of my brother, even six months later. Two years after his death, I was still very troubled although I didn’t think I was, but it surfaced when I happened to be talking to a stranger on a plane who was grappling with the same thing. And I had six months of highly-beneficial, one-on-one grief counseling after my miscarriages and the family therapist said she didn’t feel I’d ever come to terms with my brother’s death, which had been TEN years prior at that point in time. That’s probably TMI but I send it to you only as an illustration of my own experience. Grief hits everybody so differently with its vicious but necessary cycles. I clearly don’t deal well with death and grief and, at this later age, have lost a lot of people in the past dozen years, including my parents, whose lives were completely in my hand here in the everyday and I tend to haunt myself with still asking myself if I did everything I could have for them, although I know I did. Mom’s only been gone three years. I’m living in their house, so there are a lot of reminders, although the ghosts are good.
A couple of nights ago, I had a terrifying dream that my house was filling with water from an underground spring, and I was trapped. I woke up with compromised breathing; really scary, but I do have lifelong asthma and had breathed in paint fumes earlier in the day (husband painting some old furniture to bring it out of storage and back into our lives). So, my body in sleep/dreams/nightmare was I think telling me I was in jeopardy and needed to use my rescue inhaler. Or else I had the dream and it accelerated my breathing due to truly-felt fear. So, you know…thoughts, dreams; who’s to understand? My husband’s up all night lately but he refuses to give up caffeine earlier in the day. The only way a friend of mine can get restful sleep and a calm mind before bed is if she stops drinking coffee by 10am. Prayers at bedtime are also very soothing. Or a ‘worry’ journal on the night table; write it down, get it off your brain.
I lost my brother 25 years ago, my mom two years ago and my dad almost 9 months ago. We lost Winston about 12 years ago, then Riley and now Scout. It never gets easy. I grieve for all of them. I grieve for lost friends, family members and students. It’s all right there in my heart and mind. But the most recent losses – of mom, dad and Scout are the ones that haunt me. It is to be expected. Some days are fairly easy and happy and good. Others – like today – are pretty tough and I feel on the verge of tears all day long. So I’m kind to myself and give myself room for whatever emotions I need to feel.
I learned a long time ago that I cannot have caffeine after 12 noon. That is one of my hard and fast rules! Thank you, Vicki.
I’ve come to know over time here that you and I lost our young brothers at about the same time. It’s so particularly horrible when young life is snuffed out. It makes it too unfair all the way around, but…cliche of course…who ever said life was fair?
You are obviously a balanced creature, m’dear; wise! “I’m kind to myself and give myself room for whatever emotions I need to feel.” SO important. Shutting down emotion might work for some people, but I don’t think it’s good…I watched my parents do that with the loss of their son. Certainly I’ve done it. I remember a cousin of mine saying that she didn’t have time for grief. Busy teacher in the workplace; raising kids; taking care of her ill mother (and then, funeral arrangements) from afar, flying back and forth across the country. It was only after several months passed, after school was out and the kids were in summer school that she allowed herself the time to grieve. I don’t think you can ‘schedule’ it like that but, again, it’s different with everybody. And she knew her limits.
I’m glad you have the work and solace of your property/garden. The flowers are so beautiful, lovingly tended. It shows! I recently celebrated a special holiday…our wedding anniversary…and my husband bought a lovely lavender plant to fill a hole where we’d had a hibiscus I loved (decimated by a raccoon). I love it when a plant reminds me of an occasion/event/person. Hubs once planted roses in a rental house I still see sometimes, for our 10th wedding anniversary. The home was sold last year and now has a new owner; no longer a rental; is owner-occupied. I told her about the roses and she promised to take good care of them. Lucky, because some people don’t like roses. My folks at one time had a next-door neighbor who tore out every well-established rose bush the minute they bought the house. We were stymied; they’d been gorgeous and we’d all enjoyed them so much. World-class roses. I asked her about it and she said, “I hate roses.” Who hates roses?
My parents held all of their pain inside when my brother died, as well. I urged them to see someone – if not that, to talk to us about it. But I don’t know if it was because they were from a different generation or something else. I just saw them clamp down and hold all their pain inside. It made me sad.
How anyone could take down rose bushes, I don’t know! I hope they passed them on to others who would nurture them.
Nope, they destroyed all those roses. I was at work at the time, or I would have stepped in.
The parents and grief talk; you may be right about it being a generational thing. Customs and behavior from their own parents of a different century; Victorian era. I think I’ve mentioned before that I have this really sharp, astute neighbor in her mid-80s who sometimes talks about her youth in the wilds of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (with very little parental involvement/supervision). She has told me that in those days of her childhood, you just didn’t talk to parents about ‘things’ nor did they talk much between themselves about anything too ‘heavy” (not a lot of self-expression or encouragement to share feelings, thoughts?) – she said there was never much praise, not much of anything…children ‘seen and not heard’…and I think to myself, “how sad” but maybe/of course certain subjects were taboo in conversation back then which aren’t now. I’ve always thought it’s so odd that my mother, who adored her Dutch father, could share so very little with me about his heritage, stories of his early-early youth in Holland, even a word of the language, holidays celebrated or traditional foods eaten…she was sort of ‘blank’ when I’d say, “how can you not know?” and I could never get a good explanation. I guess if he didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t press. I know their life once in the U.S. was difficult…he was age 9 and had to work in the textile mills/factories near Utica, NY…and life in general was hard for a lot of immigrants, total immersion into language and ditching a lot of the old customs in a quest to assimilate (even “Americanizing’ their names) … but I know too little about this branch of my family, which makes me all the more want desperately to go to Michigan (where many of my family moved to, after New York) and also your Hudson Valley and points north. I’m the last of that Dutch line and the older I get, the more I want to trace the footsteps of what’s unknown; really strong in me to do this…
Claudia, I have been following for awhile but first comment. So sorry for your losses, I too lost one of my babies, Lily, in March. Still trying to cope. Also lost my dear Mother in January. It is hard, I am hoping time will help. Your blogs on our political situation have helped me, just knowing someone else feels as I do. I stay up worrying about the world we live in. You take care,
Kathleen
Thank you for commenting, Kathleen. Welcome!
I’m so sorry for the loss of your mother and your baby, Lily. I know how hard it is. Time does help, but there will be good and bad days. Be kind to yourself.
I’ve had plenty of those sleepless nights, too. Sucks, I know. And yes, sometimes those waves of grief just wash over us, at times we don’t even expect.
Milkweed appeared in my next-door neighbor’s ditch this year and while we know it’s beneficial for butterflies, just be aware that it’s extremely invasive. It will quickly take over an area. Yours might be in an area where that’s OK with you, but just a head’s up.
Thanks, Melanie. It doesn’t seem to be invasive here – I know it can be – but we live on just under two acres and the more the merrier, I say! I am pulling for our Monarch Butterflies. They can’t survive without it.
It feels like we are walking similar paths these days. My brain will not shut off from old memories whether awake or attempting to sleep. My beloved dogs Gadget, Libbey and Justice who used to romp thru this home these past 24 years visit frequently in my mind and I seem to be rehashing issues from my past far too often..sigh
Perhaps it is all just the aging process. I wish it would stop :D
I wish the same thing, Suzan. Thinking of you, friend. xo
My baby is 17 and I know that he will not be with me forever and I know I will not be able to cope well with the loss. I don’t know of any great words of consolation for you. Just know that there are many who understand your grief and are thinking of you and would ease your pain if they could.
I know. And that means so much to me – you have no idea! Thank you, Beverly.
Claudia, Unfortunatly this is a terrible part of ageing. You never get over it? or forget about it, not even for a minute, it’s just incorporated into your life, and you learn to live with it.
I know that for a fact! Try to find some Solice, in our support, and Love, we ALL have for you and the wonderful talents, you have been given! My Dear Friend,Claudia. -Judy A-
I am blessed by all of you, Judy, and there’s not one minute that I take you for granted. Very grateful. xo
Claudia – sending restful peaceful thoughts your way. Sorry you are down – it’s one of those things we have to work through at different times in our lives. Glad you have Don and the comfort of your cottage. Brighter days are ahead.
Absolutely. Brighter days ahead. Thank you, Karen.
Since I don’t have children I’ve put much of my love into my pets. When loosing them, I always found it weird how people would insist that I just go get another dog. When I lost my husband no one ever said go get another husband. Some don’t realize the importance of a beloved pet. I do, and I certainly understand your journey. It’s not easy, and something only you can go through. It’s good you talk about it. Scout wants you happy!
I think you’re right, Lyndia. Some people just don’t get it. And trying to explain it to them is futile. Others just want us to feel better, so they urge us to get another pet because they know how much we love animals. Anyway – thank you.
Oh, dear friend, it is so hard. I don’t know if it really ever gets easier, but the pain does dull somewhat, as we move forward. I guess that is how we are able to get through it. Thankfully, we keep our memories, although at some times those, too, seem to haunt instead of help. Also, as we get older, the number of people and fur babies we lose ~ and have lost ~ increases, and it feels as if the grieving will never be over. It never is. The aging process is certainly not for wimps! I don’t think I ever realized how hard this time in life would be.
Hoping you have a better night tonight, and that you are able to find some peace. ♡
Don and I were just talking about this. In some ways, it’s a lovely time, but in other ways, it’s enormously painful and difficult. Thank you, Chris.
Of course you’re not ready for another pet – it’s only been a few months. As difficult and hurtful as it is to feel the grief of losing our animals, we don’t want to shove it out of the way too soon either, by getting a new animal. It would feel disloyal to those who loved so much – and continue to love. When it’s time for a new friend, Scout [and Riley and Winston] will send you some good vibes to let you know.
PS – my Dad gave me a couple of tips for falling asleep – YEARS ago. The first one is once you’re settled in bed, close your eyes and concentrate very intently on not moving a muscle. You really have to force yourself to be entirely still, but oddly enough, it usually works. My theory is that your body just grows bored from being totally still and drops off. The second tip was to imagine yourself on a big, cushy comfortable raft, floating on a very flat-calm ocean. Just the gentlest swells lulling the raft slowly up and down. This usually works pretty well too.
Thank you, Janet.
I know exactly what you are talking about. The longing for our loved ones never goes away. It has been nearly three years since I lost my hubby and my pets. Not a day goes by without thinking about them in one form or another. Everyone says that it gets better with time but I have not found that to be true. My heart just aches more. xo
Maybe it doesn’t get better, but it gets bearable. xo to you, April. Thinking of you.
I’m so sorry Claudia, sometimes we have to let those memories wash over us and as they do let the tears join the deluge. Hang on as long as you can to her scent and the feel of her fur. In time I pray that these memories can softly land without the pain.
Blessings, Joanne
Thank you so much for your kind words, Joanne.
I’m sorry you had a bad night-I don’t like nights like that and always have to take things easy the next day. Dealing with grief is so hard! My Mom passed away on March 25th and I have days that I really struggle to get through. I hope you begin to sleep more peacefully!
Thank you, Debbie. I know you understand. xo