It has been....a....while...
Before I get into the details of the curve ball that tossed my life a little (read: A LOT!) out of balance for a while, you should know going in that this one is going to be a bit personal. And sad. I'm going to be honest: writing this will still cause tears to pour down my face. So there's your warning: if you want to close out now and save yourself, now is your chance. RUN.
No? This is like one of those accidents on the highway, isn't it? You want to look away, but you can't. Because we all have that strange curiosity thing inside of us, don't we?
And I'm procrastinating. Because yeah. Baby steps.
Best to rip that band-aid off, I suppose...so... in October 2015, my fur baby got sick and sort of passed out/fell over on the living room carpet one night, so we went to the vet the next morning, thinking maybe he had diabetes or a dietary problem:
Vannie and hubs chilling at the vet
Spoiler Alert: this was not a good day. Not at all.
Our sweet Vannie was sick and not the "he'll get better soon kind" but the "you have a few hours" kind. And I still can't type that without bawling like a baby. We were told it would be fast, but my sweet guy managed to hang on for a few weeks for us...mostly I think to allow us the opportunity to really snuggle him, say our goodbyes properly, and cook him lots and lots of chicken and rice.
I spent two weeks sleeping on the downstairs couch because he no longer had the strength to go up the stairs. I'd sleep with one hand lying on his back, just in case he needed me, because you see, I was his "person", and if you've ever had pets, you know what I mean. There was this "thing" we had that is hard to explain, but losing him really, really, REALLY crushed me.
For those who know me IRL, you'll likely find this hard to believe, but growing up I was an extreme introvert. (As in I didn't talk to anyone, not my teachers, not other people, no one except my immediate family. My poor mother had several parent/teachers conferences up through second grade about my unsocial behavior.)
So, as extroverted as I've become these days, when life sends me a bit off balance, I tend to go back to "hermitville" where it's safe. I go inward. I hang out with family, I get off social media, and I hit my "reset" button.
Much like this post I thought about writing many, many, many times over the past few months, as some of my poor writing friends can attest. It feels like time. It feels like a bit of therapy. But most of all, it feels like healing.
And I've missed you all, I truly have. It feels great to slowly come back to everything I've missed and to boot up my computer in the early morning hours to play with the imaginary friends inside of my head. Come to think of it, maybe I never really grew out of my introvert stage after all, maybe writing is my way of hanging on to the past while still living in the present. That seems about right.
Hope this post finds you all well...sending lots of warm thoughts and virtual hugs your way this morning. Thanks for taking a walk with me down memory lane and allowing me to ramble a bit about a part of my family who is dearly missed but never forgotten.