I am trying to figure out the balance between staying and going. Avoidance and dealing with it. Losing Cohen has been hard – unbelievably hard. And in some ways, harder than I could have imagined. 

It hits me at odd times. 

The other day Cohen’s home away from home (doggy daycare) posted a bunch of pictures of our boy on Facebook. I laughed at some of them (especially Santa – I feel like Cohen is thinking, “uh, I’m Jewish and something about this is just not quite right”) and cried at some of them. Seeing him play and be so very Cohen made me smile. He loved daycare SO much.

When I am home and in my office, I often turn around to look at the place where Cohen’s bed should be. I don’t mean to, I just do. I expect him to run down the stairs when I open the door, I expect him to come to my side of the bed when J’s alarm clock goes off… Home doesn’t quite feel like home without him.

We miss him like I never thought possible.

In all of the grief, there is also, of course, thankfulness for the time, for the love shared, for so much of Cohen…

…but there is also this new freedom that J and I haven’t had in 7 years. Never as a married couple and never in this home. It’s a freedom that I know we used to wish we had more of and now, in these circumstances, don’t really want. It’s a weird balance between wanting to enjoy it and wishing it wasn’t there.

Next week J is traveling for work and, to be honest, I would normally be a little excited about a change in routine. No arguing over who will have the car? Awesome. Meeting friends for dinner every night just because I can? Cool! But now… now it just feels horribly scary and lonely.

I know that’s a bit dramatic, but I can’t think of another way to feel about it.

So do I avoid it all together or put on my big girl pants and deal with it? I am leaning towards the latter. I thought about running to NYC to visit friends for the week or going home to Texas, but tickets are expensive and it just doesn’t make a ton of sense.

Life has to start feeling normal at some point, right? I won’t cry every time I walk in my door forever, right?

I don’t mean to worry my friends – I am actually doing ok. I have good moments and bad moments and I know that eventually feeling sad will turn into remembering good stuff and walking down the street will be less about “Cohen peed there and there and there” (ha!) and more about just wanting to get some fresh air…

I miss that damn dog so much.

Thank you for all of the support in the last few days – I’ve felt very loved.


0 thoughts on “balance.

  1. well, i wanted you to run away here, so there’s still that option.
    give yourself time, my dear.
    and come here.
    that too.
    love you.

  2. It’s weird to hit “Like” on posts that are sad, so please interpret them as “I like you and not your situation.” How great it is that Cohen touched as many lives as he did. I love Belle and Sandy, but I cannot say that anyone other than Sasha or I would post pictures to our (fictitious) Facebooks. Dogs are meant to spread joy and he did that to so many people. It’s also interesting because I think my mum feels the same about the freedom – she often says she’s going to be horrifically sad when our two dogs die but she cannot imagine going to run errands and not having to think about being back in time to let them pee. Bittersweet with an emphasis on bitter.

    I know I’ve said this before, but I would really like a Mara hug. You’re such a strong person and I love reading your posts, even if they make me tear up. Keep on writing!

    With lots of love and hugs.