The L-Word

I was re-united with my furry son in a cedar box as I picked him up from the vet today.  It was so hard to contain my emotions when I saw the box, and all the ladies at the front office were so sympathetic.  They even unexpectedly provided me with Qori's ink paw print.  I had also received a condolence card from them in the mail.  This vet was so on top of the little things that count. 

It feels so good to have Qori back with me, but the emotion I feel is still so raw.  I walk around feeling a sting in my heart.  It's hard for me to say anything out loud about Qori - which leads me to my Ruffians.

The day that Qori passed, I was just too emotional to talk with the children.  My husband had to pick them up after work, and bring them home to me.  They came home and hardly noticed that Qori was not there.  This was better for me, because I would've just broken down if they asked me anything anyway.  So it was ignorance on both parties that got us through the first night.  The second night, I continued avoiding the topic altogether by pretending that everything was normal, same with the third - until it became a comfortable, complacent trend for me.

The first time Diego even questioned anything about Qori, I was in the middle of cooking for a big party for my father's birthday.  We were expecting company in an hour, and out of the blue Diego asked, "Where's Qori?"  I was stunned and scared all at once, and all I could muster was an 'I don't know.'

And so for 2 weeks I've been dodging reality and not facing tough questions.  But today, not only was I re-united with Qori which was very moving, but Diego also moved me deeply.

We were in his speech therapist's office.  His speech therapist was trying to get him to say L-words, which we've been working on for months.

"Diego, say lunch"

"wrunch" he said.

"Good try."

She looked at another picture in her book.  "Diego, this is a leash.  Do you know what a leash is?" she asked.  "Do you have a dog?"

This set Diego off into a mini-monologue.  "Yesterday, I was with Qori," he said.  Because to him - if it's not today or tomorrow, then it was yesterday whether it was a week ago or a year ago, or actually yesterday.

Then he ran on in a few sentences talking about Qori.  Honestly, I can't remember exactly what he said, but it was nothing moving.  It was just facts, like Qori liked to chase balls or that they liked to chase each other in the backyard.  Then he paused for a minute and said, "I miss Qori."

Those three words were all it took to move me.  At that moment, I thought of Diego and Qori's relationship and a different L-word:  Love.  Before this, Diego had never voiced any emotion or even consciousness at the fact that Qori's been gone.  I thought he probably just didn't care or notice.  I couldn't expect my kids to have the same dog-obsessed gene as me.  I had been going on as if this was just MY loss, because Qori was my dog.  I see now, that Qori also had a deep impact on the kids, no matter how well they are able to understand or express it at their tiny little ages.

On the drive back home, Diego brought Qori up again.  He remembered the bleeding.  He told me that Qori is sleeping at the doctors.  He asked me 'what we were going to do with Qori'.  He asked me again,

"Mama, what are we going to to with QORI!?  What are we going to do!?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said as I froze.  I don't know what to do.  I don't know what to say.

I know I'm going to have to tell him something soon.  I can't hide from reality forever.  But it's just still so hard for me to talk about it.  I just don't know exactly how to say it.  Do I just say the D-word?  It's so hard to say it right now.  I can't do it!

I don't have the words.  I haven't found my voice just yet.

I wish I had my own speech therapist who could teach me the words.

-Shirley (Mama-Ruff)

She Searches for You

The last selfie together

10 days have passed since you were separated from her,

and she searches for you.

Although she outwardly smiles to passers by and laughs occasionally,

she still searches for you.

She searches for you when she can't finish the scraps of dinner on her plate, in every bedtime routine, and when she hears familiar sounds in the house.  Memories of you appear out of thin air in a mundane world as she puts dishes away, folds a load of laundry, or as simply as when she's walking.

She wants you to know wherever your energy now lies, that she still searches for you.

And she hopes that it makes you smile.

A Decade of Gold

I lost my furry son; my best friend...... to terminal nasal cancer two days ago.  He had given me a decade of happiness which I know is part of the foundation that makes me the person I am today.  He helped draw the smile that you see on my face, like no one else could.  He was a big part of my positive outlook on life.  He influenced me more than most humans I know.  He was in my life before I bought my first house, before I became a wife, and before I became a mom to humans.  Before any of that - I was his mom.  He was there for me through all those good times, and especially for the tough moments.   This pain i feel today is no different than losing a child.... No different.

He completed my family, so although the house today is still filled with shrieks, screams, laughter and the patter of little feet, the house now feels completely empty to me.  He used to have an invisible umbilical cord attached to me that no matter where I went in the house, he'd be right behind me after a few seconds.  He was never too far.  Now, I walk from room to room trying to feel his presence

and I feel nothing.  I'm alone.

But I found him as I made my way to the yard and felt the grass beneath my bare feet.  As I looked up to the trees and the wind blew through the leaves.  As I felt the sun and wind on my face and wondered what scented treasures the wind used to bring to his nose that he enjoyed so much.  I found him there, in nature.  It was nature that brought him to me and nature that took him back.

Now that he is physically gone, my impulse is to retreat back into my introverted shell.  But instead I am forced to trudge along and carry the weight of the world with one less pillar of support.  The pillar that I could always count on.  The one most loyal.  So now I'll need to figure out my footing in the world again, and how the pieces will fit without him.  Right now nothing fits.

But although I'm knee-deep in anguish, all this pain that I've fallen into is nothing because of the decade of love that was built to help break the fall.  It is cliche to say, but there's so much truth that it was all so worth it.  I wouldn't take any of it back to not hurt anymore.  I'll take the hurt, with open arms.  Because I had 10 great years.  10 years of hearing his cute pitched breath, of him accidentally stepping on my foot with his "hell-toes",  of bear hugs, zoomies, licks on my face, fur on my black clothes and anything I'd drop on the floor, drunken-sounding howls-- someone to keep retrieving that damn tennis ball that I couldn't seem to hold on to, or go on hikes with or a dip in the ocean and who pointed out every bench along our walks, someone who had a sexy booty-sway as he walked on leash in front of me, someone who shredded my mail, someone who always stayed by my side, and who delivered orations to me yet never said a word.   This pain can't dissolve a decade of happiness....

I knew forever would be impossible.  I know what I signed up for, and I stuck to it until the bitter end.  He did everything he was supposed to do in this world, and he did it so well.  He was the best damn best friend a girl could ask for.  And so he deserved to not suffer.  I tried my best to reciprocate the unconditional love that was so natural for him--- by letting him go before the suffering could get its filthy grasp on him.  And knowing that he is safe now is the main thing that makes my tail wag at the moment.  And I would venture to say that his furry tail is wagging too, and I possibly just felt the long golden threads from his tail brush against my face as the wind just blew in to bring me its treasures. 

And it felt good.

Let it be known, 4.25 Years later

When I was a University student, I was enjoying my single, bachelorette life but there was always a nagging desire to find "the one".  I never verbally let on to any of my single friends that there was something more that I truly longed for, but there was.  One day while on a lunch break, I sat in the cafeteria with my friend Sandra and her classmate Joe.  I don't know what I was on, but I blurted out that 'I just wanted to be in love and in a steady relationship'.

"HA!" Joe laughed in my face.  (He was apparently trying to play things cool in front of Sandra; we both knew he had a thing for her.)

I don't remember how I reacted to Joe.  It didn't even matter.  It was just the fact that I let it out.  I let it be known.

And a few weeks later I was introduced to my future Hubby.  That was the kicker!  Coincidence?

So now of course after my previous post where I let it all out, with my sad, tiny violin story about how all I wanted was to have a nice family day at the beach without incident:  you guessed it!  I got it!!!!!

What an abrupt change!  I was at my wit's end when I wrote that last post.  I didn't see things changing anytime soon.  I had given up.

So this weekend, we took Qori to the beach since he loves to swim.  I didn't even try to suggest that Diego take off his shoes or go into the water.  He stood there watching Qori and his brother wade in the water.

And early on he turned to me and said, "Mama, I want to try it out.  I'm not shy."

I said, "What -- you want to go in the water?!"

"Yes," he said calmly.

I was skeptical.  Even as I was removing his shoes, I kept saying, "If you don't like it, don't worry.  You don't have to go in the water.  I'll just put your shoes back on."

His bare feet touched the sand first, which worried me because he couldn't even touch sand with his hands when he was younger, let alone with his feet.  This critical moment and his reaction would set the mood for the rest of our evening.

......And after 4.25 years of me waiting for him to get over his sand and water phobia and not go into a tantrum distress at the beach, he walked over to the small lagoon and put one foot in.........

.................and I got my wish! 

For hours......

There were no tantrums.  It was just a tranquil day at the beach filled with smiles.  And on the way home, they fell asleep -- just like I described in my wish.  Everything was just, tranquil.  To any other person, this is just another day, but you don't understand, to me it's a miracle!  It's a culmination after 4.25 years of NEVER being able to just have a nice family day at the beach.  I was so happy for those hours.  I felt complete.  I've been re-invigorated on motherhood (still not having another baby though!!!!)

So now, I'd just like to let it be known that all I want in life is to win the lottery jackpot ;)

Hey, it's worth a shot!

-Shirley (Mama-Ruff)

Black Magic Eclipse

We visited my husband's carpenter for a project he was working on last night.  We needed to cross the bridge to get there and it was already 8pm.

"We're going to go see Martin" we told the boys.

"Martiiiiiiiiiin!" the kids gleefully cried.

Along the way I noticed the moon.  It was a large, low, and a faint orange.  I commented to Hubby that I heard there would be an eclipse tonight that would cause the moon to be orange. It would peak around midnight.  Neither of us could imagine staying up that late on a work night! 

Hubs and Martin finalized their business, and on the way out, Martin - joker that he is, played a prank on Diego.  He placed a gag prop on his finger to make it look like a nail had gone through his finger and he was bleeding.  Diego's reaction was that of pure concern.  So Martin turned around and removed the prop to show Diego that he was no longer bleeding.

"Ta-Da!"

It was magic, I told him.  He was happy and amazed. "Yeah, it was magic"

_____________________________________________________________________________

About 3:30 am. this morning I woke to hear Qori licking himself vigorously.  I had a feeling this was not good, so I jumped up and turned on the light.

Crime scene......

That's all I can say.

It still hurts my heart to think about last night.

I helped him clot the bleeding, I washed his fur so that he didn't look like a lion that had just made a kill,  I whispered that 'I was there for him' over and over and gave him lots of affection and caresses,

.......I cried.....

Out on the deck, I looked up at the sky in desperation.... I looked for the moon..... there was nothing.  The eclipse?  There was something so powerful about the moon, and so eerie that this crime scene happened on the same night.  A black magic.

I did a lousy job of cleaning up the crime scene.

After making sure that Qori was OK, I tried to fall back asleep around 5am.


Hours later when I woke, I felt a little better to see that no sequel crime scene had occurred.    But Diego woke up and immediately said, "Mommy, who made this mess?!"

"Qori was bleeding," I said.  "He's not feeling well."

Diego had that same look of pure concern.  (I felt so bad for referring to him as a demon in a previous post.  The kid has a heart and soul).  He thought about it for a few seconds and said,

"Qori needs magic!"

I fought back the tears and said, "Yes Diego.........  but I don't have any magic."

I don't have any magic....

-Shirley (Mama-Ruff)

Leaving the Pack

At the beginning of this whole mess, the vet told me to look out for changes in your behavior.  You might get extra clingy, or you might distance yourself.  It's the pack mentality: if you no longer feel useful to the pack, you will start to prepare for your leave.

We had a scare on Friday that led us into the vet's office (here I was trying to skirt my responsibility by canceling Diego's weekly speech therapy, and my Friday still ended up stressful).  Although there was blood involved, the vet seemed optimistic citing your ability to eat, drink, poop, pee, breath clearly and clot blood.  I only felt a little better.

It's hard when the vet says it could be 3 days or 3 years.  And looking at the bump on your nose grow bigger each day, I feel that 3 years in just not realistic.  And what hurts more is that lately you've been asking to go out to the yard more often, and sometimes I catch you out on the deck just sitting there.... reflecting.

It hurts me to see that you'd rather be out there alone, than inside with me.  It makes me wonder if you're preparing to leave our little ruffian pack.  Is that it, Qori?  Or does the cool breeze just make you feel better?  I don't want to force you to come inside, so I let you take your time.  Take as much as you need.  But know that I feel so alone without you... and yet you're just on the other side of the sliding glass door.  I wish I could tell you that you're still useful to our pack.  That we (I) will need you until the bitter end.

And I know that you need me too.  I'm here for you Qori. 

The pack will stay together:  through good times and bad.....

-Shirley (Mama-Ruff)

Breakthrough

After writing that last post, I've been trying to handle things differently both mentally and physically with Diego.  I'm yelling at him less and trying to make those piercing shrieks of anger slide off my back.  And when things are good, I make sure to show him more affection and tell him that I love him.

This past weekend, we had what I considered a breakthrough.  It was Sunday morning and the boys began fighting over the Wii as they always do (Pictured above is how they "hate" on each other when each is playing on the Wii).  After Diego played his round, I held my ground and announced that it was Mateo's turn to play on the Wii.  Diego started into a tantrum, which I ignored.  His tantrum was beginning to escalate.

Just then I heard a knock on the door.  This will have been the third! time that my brother inlaw has shown up to our house on our family Sunday unannounced within the last couple of months.  I was so annoyed with him, yet graciously welcomed him and now his 9 year old son, Andrew into our home.

The problem was that Diego was still in full-on tantrum mode....

He was mad at his brother for taking the Wii, he was mad at his cousin Andrew because Mateo then let Andrew play with the Wii, he was mad at the world.  He went into our master bedroom and slammed the door with the force of an adult.  He came out with pillows and started throwing them in his brother's and cousin's direction while they played.  I intervened, but minimally, keeping my assertive tone and yet calm voice.  Especially after my last experience with my brother inlaw as summarized in my recent FaceBook post:

I just kept washing dishes in the kitchen and telling Diego not to throw things at his brother and cousin.  I tried to let things slide off my back, I didn't get mad; only stern, and I went about my business.  Diego was no longer screaming but was walking around with a pissed-off face and a look that said, "I'm trying to think of something bad to do."

After about 30 minutes, Diego came to me in the kitchen and out of left field said,

"I'm sorry, Mama!"

At first I didn't even know why he was apologizing to me.  It's not like he threw pillows at me!  I honestly could not believe that those words had so sweetly and kindly come out of his mouth!  I wasn't even looking, expecting, or thought that I deserved an apology!  10 minutes later Diego and answer were swapping their Wiis and Nintendo DS's and playing different levels of Mario Bros.

Later that day, after his cousin left and we played in the backyard, Diego started reflecting on his day.


"Mama, I was a bad boy, but then I turned into a GOOD boy!" he said.

Yes, Diego.  You turned into a good boy.

And I turned into mush.

What a breakthrough!

-Shirley (Mama-Ruff)