I’ve been sitting here for the last two hours trying to find just the right song for a Zumba warm up and have made no progress. Everything I hear has either already been done or just isn’t what I’m looking for. I find myself distracted by the smallest things like the clicking of the ceiling fan, or more pressing matters like remembering to drive to Belton tomorrow to pick up the part for the washing machine that broke tonight. I’m lost in thought, forgetting all about the song I’ve been looking for, when I look down and see my sweet Maggie laying on the floor and my thoughts take yet another turn that I can’t seem to shake. I start wondering if she knows just how ill she is. I wonder if she’s hurting or scared. I wonder if she has any idea just how much I love her. I start welling up again knowing I can’t stop the tears from falling. How can the end be getting closer and closer? How do I say goodbye to someone who has been the equivalent to a child to me for over 14 years? Why can’t I go through this for her? Why is it that at the end she has to go through this alone? Am I just giving myself a reason for a good cry? These kinds of questions keep running through my mind as I sit here in my quiet house.
I guess getting lost in thought has always been more of a passive activity for me sort of like when I drive from my house to HEB. I’ve been there a million times so I’m pretty much on autopilot driving there. It’s only when I arrive in the parking spot that I start questioning if all of those lights I just drove through actually were green. The difference now is that these thoughts aren’t passive. They’re very real, and, in this case, the reality sucks.
I have always had a knack for rambling on and on so you could imagine what it must be like to be inside my head. Fortunately, after a few minutes, I find myself calming down as I help Maggie to bed. The rambling has subsided, but I know it is only temporarily silenced. I know the next time will catch me off guard again as my mind goes from passive to active thoughts. The floodgates have closed for the night although I’m a bit emotionally drained. I know in the morning I will do the same as I have done for the last several months. I will get up to let the dogs out and pray that when I open Maggie’s door to her box that her chest is rising and falling in a relaxing slumber. Someday I know I’ll awaken to an empty box, but for now I will cherish every day I have with her. I will laugh at her crazy eyebrows. I will smile when I see her have a sudden burst of energy. I will continue to be generous with her treats and will look the other way when she decides to eat her brother’s food instead of her own even though it’s exactly the same. Most of all, I will remind myself that I will not love her for the rest of her life, but instead for the rest of mine.