Whenever I come home from work, I’m always hoping that the lights in my apartment will be on. For the past two days, I’ve been extremely hopeful that they would be on and George will be home waiting for me. His death is still somewhat surreal. Tomorrow is his memorial/funeral and it’s like the period at the end of the sentence. It hasn’t been two weeks yet, and I don’t know if his actual death has fully sunk in. Sometimes I’m a complete mess and other times I’m just floating through time. My dad asked me tonight at dinner what the weather was like in my area yesterday. I couldn’t remember. I’m just drifting through days, trying to get to the end of each one and just dreading the next.
Last night, right before bed, Bodie wedged himself between the open door and the wall and started whimpering. My heart imploded in my chest. The moment I heard his high squeaks, I knew right then and there that he’s feeling George’s absence in the apartment. Bodie has been such a great support for me and I guess he needed some alone time too to mourn. Of course the moment I heard him, I quickly picked him up and brought him on the bed for an emergency pet and cuddle session. Dogs are amazing. They’re so intuitive and smart. Even at work, I had my first meeting with my team since returning and of course it was extremely emotional. I explained what has been going on over the past year, and what to expect in the future. The grieving process will be long and there’s just somethings that many of them have never encountered so I explained that there will be times I will just cry because I’m sad and other times I’ll get angry for no apparent reason. But they should never take it personally and just understand that I’m dealing with a severe loss and that’s the way I will be coping with it at that time. Some of the girls started crying, and Bodie immediately went up to them. He is just a wonderful companion to have right now. Not just for me but for everyone around me.
I’m afraid that I’m going to get into a routine of going to work and then just shrivel away at night in my apartment. George was my hobby. We did everything together and without him, I’m lost. I need to find a hobby and shed some light on this darkness that continues to engulf me. But at the same time, I don’t want to do anything without him. Tomorrow is going to be rough. I don’t think I’m fully ready to deal with saying goodbye. I want to hold on to the hope, but I know it’s inevitable. And that’s terrifying.