The Paws I Miss
I'm feeling a lot in this Sunday Pause, thinking about the paws I miss.
As the first anniversary of Reese's passing approaches, I keep remembering what we were doing a year ago. We were happy together, filled with hope that we would have another couple of years. Maybe three, if we were lucky.
Our mornings began with cuddling. Before leaving, I would kiss her forehead and tell her I would see her later. When I came home, she greeted me with enthusiasm, letting me know I had been missed. I would stop and take a moment to pet her.
Her early October cardiology appointment had gone well. Her vet and cardiologist said she was doing great. "We'll see you next year," the cardiologist said. Less than a month later, she was gone.
On October 14, the cardiology office called to schedule her next appointment. I was driving to a business meeting. Thank God I hadn't worn mascara. I said, "Reese passed." I could not say another word.
I remember how happy we were. How loved I felt. Reese was there while I rebuilt my life, and being loved by her helped me begin loving myself.
I miss her presence. I would love just another moment to be with her. I would have stayed forever in the room where we lost her if it meant she could have stayed too. I feel like part of me is still there.
I take her everywhere. I carry her joy with me daily, and I try to smile when I think of her, even when I feel the tears. I'm thanking God for bringing her into my life, for the time we had, and for His grace in carrying me through this last year and meeting me in my grief.
I'm also thanking Him for the pumpkin patch visit we shared a year ago this Sunday. She was like a puppy, sniffing the farm air before she was even out of the car, running through the corn maze. She rested for a moment before moving on to the tractor ride, her ears in the wind. We wandered the pumpkin patch, and afterward she fell asleep in her car seat, just like every year before. She had given the pumpkin patch everything she had.
It was her place. Reese was all things fall.