From work! There's a ton to be said for 'vacation' days. There's tons to do here, and I still have some holiday visiting to do, but I don't have to 'go to work'. I'm breathing a sigh of relief. Now, if I could just get out of the Lancaster trip...
The holidays were, well, odd. The oldest kid stayed in her home - as I would have expected. The other kid came very late on Christmas Eve, along with the boyfriend and the grandpuppy. We sort of hung out in the morning, opened gifts, ate breakfast. From there, well, I napped. And baked a chicken. And watched TV. And missed Dakota. Horribly. I opened up one Christmas box to get the kids stockings, and there on top.... Dakota's. My breath caught, and I grabbed what I needed and shut the box.
But I did pick up Dee Dee Jonrowe's "Iditarod Dreams" today. I'd stopped reading it when Dakota passed, but I spotted it on my bookshelf, and found myself opening it. She's quite the woman - a survivor of much. It's where I thought my life would go, to the North, with my dog, and where I thought I'd finally become the woman I wanted to be.
Now I'm not so sure.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
The Milestone
She's gone. It's taken me this long to sit here and let you know. And I am crying, crying like it happened just a heartbeat ago.
On November 16, I looked in her eyes and it was time. Dakota passed quietly to the Rainbow Bridge around 8:15 that evening.
I never thought I'd have the courage to do it, but I laid with her as they gave her the sedative, whispered all the right things in her ear. I read somewhere that hearing is the last sense to go in humans, and I sort of assumed the same for my baby. I stayed and I held her as they injected the drug to stop her heart. I must believe that everything else had shut down, but her heart was still beating for me. As odd as it sounds, I was closer to Dakota than any other living thing on this earth - and I have children and friends and a roommate. Letting her go was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.
A piece of my heart went to the Bridge that night as well. Healing, well, I guess. Sometime, some day.
For now, I am needed at work. I will continue to bury my hurt there, and hope that when it's time to surface, I'll be able to face a future without my best friend.
Godspeed Dakota. Until we meet again.....
On November 16, I looked in her eyes and it was time. Dakota passed quietly to the Rainbow Bridge around 8:15 that evening.
I never thought I'd have the courage to do it, but I laid with her as they gave her the sedative, whispered all the right things in her ear. I read somewhere that hearing is the last sense to go in humans, and I sort of assumed the same for my baby. I stayed and I held her as they injected the drug to stop her heart. I must believe that everything else had shut down, but her heart was still beating for me. As odd as it sounds, I was closer to Dakota than any other living thing on this earth - and I have children and friends and a roommate. Letting her go was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.
A piece of my heart went to the Bridge that night as well. Healing, well, I guess. Sometime, some day.
For now, I am needed at work. I will continue to bury my hurt there, and hope that when it's time to surface, I'll be able to face a future without my best friend.
Godspeed Dakota. Until we meet again.....
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