Day 360

Emotional two-step

It’s the rhythm of things that I’m finding so difficult. I’m all for some syncopation. Even syncopation, though, has a pattern, a cadence and timing on which you can rely. What I’m experiencing right now is disquieting, disruptive and utterly debilitating. This afternoon I described my physical state to a friend. It’s as though I am two days out after a monster full body workout … and then someone took a large, rubber mallet to my body. I don’t feel broken. I feel bruised, from the inside.

And then, moments later, I function again. When I say function I say that loosely. I am awake, alert, and getting things done. Though more often than not I may be found standing numbly having forgotten mid stream what task was at hand. So I’m taking smaller bites. I’m portioning out my day and my attention. Keeping things simple. Keeping things small. Because right now the emotions are utterly enormous and all consuming.

This morning I had the great pleasure of visiting the local NBC affiliate to do a segment on the morning news about how to help your dog adjust to a “back to school” life. While standing in the hallway outside the studio, anchor Michelle Velez caught sight of me through the window. She came out during the next commercial break to give me a hug and tell me how sorry she was to hear about Truman. I began to crack a little, but pulled it together.

Just before we began our segment she asked me if I wanted to talk about Truman at all. Not to speak of him felt wrong. His was a conspicuous absense. My shadow. If you saw me on TV, you saw Truman. On a couple of occasions I’d brought all four of the dogs, but in almost every other case it was two dogs — Truman, and one of the other three. Taking a deep breath, I said that I did.

She could not have been more kind, compassionate and gracious in how she gently nudged the door of the topic open. We spoke briefly about his passing, I mentioned there were plans to memorialize his magnificence, and then we moved into the topic at hand.

It was hard. It was really hard. It also was cathartic.

I went home and cried for about 30 minutes. Washed my face, pulled it together, and after breakfast went in to work.

Now I’m home. I’m exhausted. It’s time to snuggle with the kids and binge Netflix.

Today’s Gracious Gratitude. I am grateful for:

• The reminders that at this time last year I was distracted and kept dropping the ball on this daily gratitude practice
• Having the opportunity to share my experience with a friend who is going through their own colossal loss of a beloved pet — from just a few days ago. I get the opportunity to walk down the path ahead of them and hold a flashlight
• Really big arugula salads that I get to eat while on my sofa in my pajamas
• Tackling an irritating project and getting it almost all done
• Holding my tongue and not saying some things to someone that I know are fueled by my own present grief and some other persnickety personal demons
• Weekends
• The smell of fresh coffee
• How leftover donuts zapped in the microwave taste almost as good as fresh … okay so that isn’t really true but they still were good
• Going to the Container Store