Grief is weird.

I’ve been trying to think of a poetic way to express how I’m feeling, but I keep coming back to this one thing.

Grief is just weird.

We said goodbye to our old dog yesterday. (Yes, the Shih Tzu of pooping in the truck fame.) Mac’s health has been declining for years, but I thought there would come a time when I clearly knew he was ready to go. Truth? I hoped that he would pass peacefully in his sleep and then we wouldn’t have to decide at all. But that’s not how it happened and instead of instantly knowing it was time, the truth crept up on me.

My husband and I have been talking about it for weeks, as things seemed to further decline for our little guy. I’ve prayed many prayers and asked that I would know when it was time, but I forgot that God often speaks in whispers instead of bullhorns.

I finally called the vet yesterday and took Mac in so she could evaluate things. Our vet was gentle and honest as she confirmed what I had already prepared myself for. It was time.

But do you know what I wasn’t prepared for? The deep grief.

DEEP.

Gosh, you guys. I knew I would be sad and I figured I would cry, but I was caught unaware by my own heaving sobs.

I held my old guy and cried deeply as I remembered the ornery little fur ball we brought home 13 years ago and how smitten my little Emma was with him.

I cried for the way he helped me grieve Alex and Emma when they died.

I cried for the link he’s been between my old life and this new one.

And then I wasn’t crying for him as much as I was crying for myself and how God can use a dog to weave the threads of life together.

The house was different this morning without Mac and that’s been both heartbreaking and also a relief. I’m no longer worried about him and I haven’t had to hold space and energy to meet his needs. This both soothes me and rattles me because it echos some similar feelings I experienced when our daughters died.

So yeah, this grief thing is weird.

So weird.

I’m sad that our dog died, but that sadness doesn’t exist independently. It’s intertwined with the grief I still carry for my daughters and how life has changed so much over the years.

I’m both grateful and sad and that this is both familiar and unexpected. Good gracious, grief is weird.

So here’s to the pets that are part of our families.

Here’s to the threads our animals weave into our lives, somehow tying our pieces together.

Here’s to that weird thing called grief that never really goes away, but reminds us of where we’ve been as we continue to move forward.

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