Grief

I can't recall just how many children I have read those words to over the years but during what's been a really difficult week (month / year) emotionally, with one of my closest friends, these words came to my mind giving me absolute clarity.

My friend, who will be 16 years in a few months is fading away. She is my beautiful Border Collie, Jess, who it seems is dying. Her body has been gradually failing her for almost a year now but, with her ever present tenacity and stoicism, after each downward turn she has rallied and shown that she's not quite done yet!

And for this I am eternally grateful - for the time to accept that my constant companion of over 15 years will not be around.

When I brought home that 8 week old bundle of fluff, I had no idea of what lay ahead. We've shared so many intimate, personal and family experiences with a faith and reliability that few humans can muster.

When I say that Jess is one of my closest friends, I'm not anthropomorphising. I know she is not human, (that's one of her best traits), but she is a spirit, just in another form and like all great friends she has shared my adventures, my ups and downs and at times driven me to distraction. She has taught me so many things and a walk with her has had the power to heal so much. Our relationship is one I cherish and part of the tapestry of my life.

We've been on treks, swum in rivers, climbed mountains, spent days on beaches in all weathers. We've camped in tents and vans, slept under the stars and in posh hotels. She's been to festivals, parties and was present at my wedding.

She's been a constant, an ever present friend and I value our relationship at least equally to my human ones.

I will miss her sorely.

The spiritual side of me knows this is just an illusion, her transitioning will not be a 'non existence', that she will always be around, but the human part aches with the thought of losing her. The 'see it, hear it, smell it, taste it, touch it part of me wants everything to just go on for ever.

We have been blessed (in these crazy times) with a few months of lazy days, filled with sunshine. Jess and I have enjoyed the pace together, pottering in the garden or sitting in the shade of a tree. And this past week or so as her pace slows ever further, I am aware of every extra day and hour.

There have also been times during this week when, however much I have wanted to avoid, I have been forced to be present, to completely surrender to the process (albeit through many tears).

I don't know what we have yet to deal with but hope I don't let her down. I hope that as now, through the grief I can see and feel the joy and all the enrichment that Jess has bought to my life (and my two sons).

I cannot imagine the future without her but I know she will never be forgotten and will always be deeply loved.