Friday, August 1, 2014

Lonely, lazy days

I managed to get myself out of bed this morning in time to go for a 5k run before work but I can't say it felt good. My body was achy and sore after so many weeks of relative inactivity. Don't get me wrong, I've been running occasionally (1-2 times per week), walking a fair bit and doing some gardening. But I've not done any serious training in nearly ten weeks and my body is feeling it. The next few weeks will be busy at home and at work but I need to find more time for running if I'm going to be ready for Rum Runners Relay on September 27th.

Unfortunately, everything's feeling harder these days because I'm missing Her Majesty so much. She was a huge part of my life. From the time I woke up in the morning until I crashed at night, she was there - demanding food and snuggles, lying on any clothes I dropped on the bed or in a chair, settling into my suitcase when she caught me packing, "talking" about whatever was on her mind. I see her shadow from the corner of my eye dozens of times a day, and some part of me still thinks she's in the country with Husband and will be home in a few days.

I know that letting go of people we love deeply is one of life's toughest challenges. I've dealt with many such losses over the past few years and it never seems to get easier. I may go weeks at a time thinking I'm finally over it when something happens to remind me of the person who's missing and the grief and pain come flooding back. The same is true when I remember that Ranee now lies buried in our garden in the box Husband built for her.

I've been struck this week by how some people totally understand how I feel about Ranee's death, while others have no clue whatsoever. For the latter, I suspect pets are just "things" - to be owned and enjoyed for so long as they're convenient. But that wasn't how I thought of Ranee. To me, she was a constant companion who loved unconditionally and always wanted to spend time with me, however grumpy or upset I might be. It isn't hyperbole to say that she tethered me to life on my darkest days - through the challenges of law school and my early legal career, the times when Husband and I were on the verge of separation, difficult moves, professional disappointments, family issues, and lost friendships. No one - not even Husband - has been the guardian of so many confidences. So - yes - I miss her. The house feels desperately empty without her small but mighty presence. I know it will get easier in the months ahead but I still feel weighed down by grief and loneliness whenever I think of her.

Fortunately, when I finally went running this morning, I was reminded that, although it's sometimes hard to get myself out the door, running is one of the best things for dealing with sadness. It reminds me that, despite everything, there's a big beautiful world out there - where birds sing, children laugh, and light bounces off the surface of the lake - and I'm fortunate to be fit and healthy enough to enjoy it. In time, I hope that it's my happy memories of lost friends I will recall rather than the grief of losing them.

1 comment:

  1. Janice, I'm SO sorry to hear about Ranee. I'm one of those people who totally gets it. Losing a pet is losing a dear friend and a part of your family. And it's never easy. I've said goodbye to three dogs of my own over the years, and a few more among family and friends. It's been long grieving process every time. But like you said, running is a great way to help you get through it. Wishing you well.