Grief

Delia died yesterday.

I don't know how else to say it, or write it. I don't know how to better lead into something that is so tragic to me.

I don't know how to process this terrible grief. I don't know how to accept this new life change. I don't know how to let go and move on and keep living like things are normal.

Because Delia was my "normal."

She was a part of my life for 6 years and 9 days. I have written a number of times on here about what she means to me, so I won't do it again (see here, here, here, and here). Almost from the moment she was brought into my life I have been dreading this day. The day she would die and a little bit of me would die with her. I wondered, abstractly, if maybe the dread or anticipation of her dying would be the worst part. But it wasn't. The worst part was climbing into bed the first night without her and feeling this completely overwhelming grief and sadness and just incredible weight of loss. It was, and is, absolutely crushing.

I have lived in Georgia, in this house, for 6 years and 4 months. Delia has lived here with me for 6 full years. I have no place here that I don't associate with her. I have spent more time with her over the last 6 years than any other living, breathing, thing.

She has been a comfort and a joy to me as I transitioned into living in a place that has been difficult for me to adjust to. She was unwaveringly loyal, affectionate, and present in my day to day life. Now I don't know how to live.

I have so few memories of the last 6 years that do not in some way involve her. My life and routine involved her each day. So, how do I not think about her?

I was not home when she died. I always take her with me when I travel. This time she stayed home with Daniel. Do I feel thankful that I wasn't there to literally witness her death? Or do I further mourn missing her last few days? Would she have found comfort in having me with her? I just can't say. But I am convinced that watching her die would have broken something inside of me that might not have healed. I am so very thankful that Daniel was with her at the end, and thankful that he has never made me feel like the excess of my grief is unwarranted. He loved her differently, but he loved her still.

I can't talk about the details of her death, but we think it was quick and, hopefully, relatively painless. It was unexpected.

The decision has been made to have no more "companion" dogs after Lea dies. It is too difficult for me. I can't separate this love I have for Delia (and Lea) into a "pet" category that makes it less painful and more acceptable when they pass. But I will never regret Delia. I know, without doubt, that God gave her to me to help me through a really difficult time in my life-- moving, transitioning to a new city and state, with no friends, and a lot of alone time. And I don't particularly care if people judge my grief as unfounded, or exaggerated, or even ridiculous.

At the end of my life she will still be on the short list of my great loves. She was a gift, a cherished, precious, gift.

If I had the power I would move mountains to bring her back. Since I am still slightly in touch with reality and know that isn't possible, I'll just continue to grieve, and to wish things were different, and to love her like I always have.

Because death can't change love.

Hollytree Cordelia
"Delia"
August 1, 2002- January 4, 2012

(I have, probably, well over 100 pictures of Delia, these are just a few. I may post more later. For now, I am taking a hiatus from public social life. This may last a few days or a few months. I just don't know anymore).