Today I sat down on the stairs to tie my snow boots to go for a walk. Like I’ve done almost every day for years and years. But unlike at least 2x a day for the past 8 years, I did not get a Smokey kiss, or skoosh as I did it. It’s still heartbreaking. And I cried.
It’s been almost 2 months. I feel like I cannot get past this loss. And perhaps because I’ve forged my way forward past other losses in my life because that’s simply what you have to do. You suck it up. But it’s tiring. Maybe just too many. Every day I still cry. I mourn. I wake up aimlessly. I used to pop out of bed no matter how tired, how cold outside and say let’s go for a walk. Snowing? Raining? Who cares. And Smokey made sure I did. Now, I do not.
Now I move throughout my day aimlessly. I try to fill it with trading and exercise and projects and games to keep my brain from turning to mush, seeing my neighbors for walks or dinners and binge watching TV at night to keep the noise going as I fall asleep so I do not have to deal with the quiet – which I used to love. But now I hate.
But it’s all filler. It’s all stuff I’ve always done every day in between walks and hikes and snowshoe adventures, and beach visits, errands with my buddy as a co-pilot, and taking a million pictures to share of my best friend so the world who followed could smile too. And skooshing all the time, and making his homemade food, and cleaning up after his fur, and crumbs. All of the daily adventures we had, and making sure to say good morning and goodnight. And many hugs in between. And knowing we were doing it all again the next day.
Now I just have the filler.
