Sept 4, 2024: The Day After. I can still play in my mind what should be as if tricking myself into thinking it is. But it’s not. I don’t actually have to get up to give Gizmo food and meds or take him out. I can see him in my mind’s eye laying out of sight, but he’s not really there. I can’t stop crying. My sister sent me a large Berner plush, and I’ve put it on my legs while I’m in bed. It’s not him, but it replicates the weight of his head on me and is somehow comforting. At some point we left the house, and when we came back it wasn’t as strange as I expected. We realized that Gizmo had been fading into the background as his body had been shutting down. He rarely came to greet us at the door anymore. It reinforced that we’d made the right choice. We spent some time looking at old pictures and videos of him. It was surprising to see him running around in so many of them. It made us realize how little he’d really been able to do this past year. It was a gradual decline so we didn’t really notice. It’s only when we look back at the early years that we see the reality of his decline. He’s just always been so happy. He was happy right up to the end. We had a dance lesson tonight and I considered cancelling. But I’d spent most of the day in bed feeling sorry for myself and dancing always takes our mind off of stress so we went, and it was nice to have a little normalcy and enjoyment in our life today.
Sept 5th: I decided to get up and run a few errands. I randomly started crying as I was driving. I took out a bunch of the rugs we no longer needed that were scattered around so Gizmo wouldn’t slip without any issue. But I lost it when I threw his leftover food out. I found myself pacing around the house not sure what to do with myself. A good but of time every day was spent caring for Gizmo. I have time to do whatever I want now, but I don’t know what I feel like doing. Who am I when I’m not Gizmo’s mom? My life has revolved around him and his needs for the past 7.5 years. I talked to him constantly. I involved him in everything I did. We replaced the living room rug today and he wasn’t there to “help” flatten it out and make the task of straightening it out extra challenging.
Sept 6th: If I put the plushie on my legs while I lay in bed it can replicate the feeling of his head like he would so often lay. It makes it harder to get out of bed. I can close my eyes and pretend everything is normal. I slept most of the day. I eventually made myself get up and go for a walk. I called some family and friends and finally decided to start talking about it a bit. I also started washing his beds, blankets, and toys. I went through his stuff to decide what to keep vs. give away or throw out. That had me crying. I did a lot of pacing around aimlessly, too, today.
Sept 7: I slept most of the day. Long ago we bought tickets to the Sum41 concert so we went. I realized that I’m pretty depressed right now. It took a conscious effort and some time to warm up and start having fun, but I’m glad we went.
Sept 8: I ran some errands. It was exhausting. I curled up in bed for a while after. I’m so emotionally drained and not feeling ready to go back to work tomorrow. I know I will have to get back to life and time will heal this wound, but it’s not going to be easy.
Sept 9: I couldn’t sleep last night. I started getting anxious about the work I need to do and how behind I am in everything. And with the weight of Gizmo’s passing, everything seems daunting. I want to just bury my head under the covers and hide, but I can’t. Luckily, I had an all day meeting where I just had to listen mostly so it was an easy first day back. I immediately fell asleep when it ended. Colin suggested I might be getting sick.
Sept 10th: I got Covid. I’d have some more rest and time to hide while I recovered from that over the next week. Then I can try again at my new normal life.