Phoenix

I want to write about Chris, but I don't know what to say besides the usual. It's all just a jumble in my mind now; there is less clarity as the days go on.

I miss him so much as the days of March move on. I remember what was happening last year at this time: it was the start of sinister GBM symptoms. Exactly a year ago seizure activity ramped up and Chris suddenly could not work due to a variety of other symptoms. There was a flurry of treatments and a dark foreboding cloud over everything. It was the start of living in the present because the future was too uncertain and not guaranteed. 

I do not understand why Chris died so young. Why him? He was so good, so responsible, so smart, so loving. He would have made such an impact in many ways had he lived longer without problems from the tumor.

Sometimes panic over his death still overcomes me, it is very strange. It already happened, I don't know why I would worry about it happening again. I guess that means I have not accepted it... My heart and mind are truly railing against the situation. How can this possibly be permanent? Come back... I don't want to think about what happened because it is too horrific and I don't want to think far into the future because it is too desolate. The beautiful days of my marriage when illness wasn't at the forefront seem distant, and I have a hard time remembering how it was, which also makes me sad. When I do access good memories, the pain of separation is unbearable. The only things that consistently help are exercise and dog searching, so I've been doing a lot of both. (Cooking, not so much...) 

With respect to the search, at the advice of a couple of wonderful friends I turned to shelterless rescue agencies for our search. Oh dear, here I go again... I've lost my heart to another lab mix puppy. I put in several applications and happily we were matched with her! I've been screened by the agency and in touch with her foster mom. We will be meeting her on Wednesday and if all goes well she'll be ours soon. I really, really hope it turns out that she's the one. My heart needs puppy mending and my mind needs the distraction of learning something new. When she gets bigger she can exercise with me, too.

She was born on the same day Chris died and her name given by the rescue agency is Phoenix. I won't call it a sign, but the symbolism of her name and her entrance to the world as Chris was leaving means something to me. Maybe she will help us rise up from the tragedy and move forward.

sweet Phoenix, please be mine, I need your velvet ears

(Look at those colt-like legs! There's a tiny white spot on her back!)