Tuesday, February 19, 2008

lots of hugs and kisses, hearts and pretty red wrapping

The remnants of my Valentine parcel from MLou, fellow designer gal, amazing friend and co-appreciator of all things aesthetically fine. Inside Starbucks coffee, a Tim Hortons gift card and two flashlights (an inside joke) one of which doesn't need batteries - it's a hand cranked flashlight (another inside joke). I love red, I love tissue paper and I love hearts. Red is my favourite colour.

I'm going to be brief this morning. I'm going to go have my hot bubble bath, walk Miss Dixon around the village in moon lit darkness and get an early start to this day. Have two full colour paintings on the schedule with a very tight deadline of end of day. So must get in a groove, and get in that groove early.

I read something last night in bed about surrendering, of not having expectations and trying to control things, of just letting things be. I've decided that I am surrendering to my sadness, my missing, my loss. I am no longer trying to make myself feel better, to snap out of it, to just get on with things. I will, and do cry whenever I feel like it. I will think about my best friend Jake as much as I want. I will dwell on him and on how much I miss him and my feeling is if you can't handle my grief and sadness along with me, well, I guess I'll see you later sometime. I know that the only way that I will ever be better ... is to feel this, completely unfettered. That's just who I am.

I just poured my second cup of coffee and went upstairs to start my bath and realized I feel very relieved. It was a relief to write that last paragraph. A relief to decide to be OK with sadness. Why is it we've decided sadness is such a bad thing, something to move past, something that must be gotten over quickly and efficiently. Why do we pile guilt and disappointment in ourselves on top of tears, aches and missing.


  1. Brava, Susan!
    Your path to this place of surrender has been, is, so courageous. Giving up the struggle will surely bring some peace (at least that's what I wish for you).I really admire your honesty. Am inspired by it. I think your boy, Jake, is becoming your angel, Jake.
    lots of love

  2. I think it is great that you are accepting that this is just how things are right now. I think Jake is becoming your angel too.

  3. You have to be who you are, and you have to feel what you feel. No one else can tell you how to do that. It sounds like you are gaining strength.

  4. Atta girl Susan. Why should we all submit to being round pegs anyway? Why should we let anybody else determine our actions, our future and our curriculum? Fully half of the self proclaimed know-it-alls have not, and will not, ever live through most of what they are babbling about.

    Hope you have a nice day and enjoy your painting.......

    Today it is +5C here, brilliant sunshine...and I am working on my bunny. I decided on some lovely white wool instead of mohair....

  5. You feel what you feel, and however long the healing process takes is how long it takes. It is disappointing when friends don't know how to deal, but at least some of yours do. And it does sound like you're getting stronger. Hugs!

  6. Finquita is right. You have to just sort of relax and go with the tide of sadness. Surrender as she said. A person can't really end the sadness on purpose. It's just there huge and consuming and it's my experience that it only lessens extremely gradually. Almost unnoticeably until one day, much, much, later, you realize you can have a sweet thought, or look at a photo and not cry and not have that awful feeling of wanting your beloved pup back so badly you think you'll not be able to carry on. That's the feeling you described a day or two ago. But, to be honest, you'll have painful trips into that dark place occasionally for years, probably. It's just the nature of experiencing a devastating loss. And, as for your friends out here you have nothing to worry about. Those of us that are with you are with you for the long haul.

    I first found your blog on a blog listing blogs by women. For some reason your single descriptive line hooked me. On my first visit, I read all the way back to where you began. I felt a connection. Perhaps it was the dogs, or how you live, I'm not sure. When the long, sad ending for Jake began, there were days I could hardly stay with you because I would relive all the sadness I have experienced with the loss of my pups. I did stay though because I had begun to feel like a supporter. I sensed that you needed us out here. Isn't it amazing how people who don't know each other can feel connected through a blog. I was at my friend's before Jake died and I was telling her about you and him and that I feared it wouldn't be much longer. Knowing how hard I took my personal loss, she said "Anya, why do you go there? Why do you do that to yourself?" and I said immediately, "Because I know Susan needs the support. I've been there throughout. At this point, I can't not go." I suspect that's how the others feel too. Another thing, one of my three dogs..I lost her 5 years ago...was named Jake. This is a long comment, perhaps I should have emailed. But I enjoy reading the comments from the names I see here frequently so maybe a long entry is ok. By the way, I learned how to put pictures on flicker this week and I put a few favorite ones of my three pups up. If you ever are in the mood or have time, you might like to have a look. My flickr name is "Anya's Way".

  7. 5pm. Today felt like spring, the temperature was mild and all our snow is almost all gone ...leaving that mucky spring smell in the air.

    You are such a comfort to me, all of you, leaving such supportive and encouraging comments, telling me your own experiences with sadness & loss. Stories of the dogs and cats you've loved. This world of blogging is an amazing thing. I told my friend Finquita that I think it's a recluses way of being a social butterfly. And I am very much a recluse.

    Anya your lovely long comment brought tears to my eyes. You speak about my Jake like you did know him too. That you saw the end coming when I was still trying to push it away just helps make it all more real for me. Because right now I wander around my home wondering how can it be that Jake's just not here anymore. I can't seem to grasp that he could really be gone.

    My God I loved him so much. I adored every single thing about him.

    I tried to find your photos on Flickr but to no avail. Maybe you could paste a link in another comment. I would love to see photos of your pups.

    Thanks again, all of you and lots of love from Winnie Dixon and me.

  8. I am so new at the flickr thing, I'll try to figure out how to post a link here to my photos. One thing I did notice is that my name over there is not written with any caps and when I wrote it here I capitalized both words. On flickr it's "anya's way". That probably doesn't make any difference.


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