Special Delivery
Grief: it's what for dinner.
Apparently, one thing we can say for sure about the new Sarah is she is full of corny puns.
This new Sarah also still has a lot of empty space to fill - a LOT. And who in their right mind would opt to have so much available real estate in this economy?
See, there's those corny puns I warned you about. Sorry.
Anyway, to refresh memories, last week's fortune predicted that good news would come to me via mail, but discovering this message in my swamp of grief made the idea of anything "good" on the horizon nearly impossible to believe. But here I am, running on empty, yet indeed with a few good things to report.
The first did not come via mail, traditional or electronic, but rather more of epiphany I had upon talking to our wonderful primary vet, Dr. Suzanne May. In a weird twist of horrible timing, she was on vacation last week when Awesome-O passed away, so she hadn't heard the news until just a few days ago.
Talking to her was of course incredibly emotional, but also surprisingly comforting. Her sympathy was so sincere, as her connection to Awesome-O was obviously not just as a patient but also as a living being so apparent. She confirmed much of what we thought: as a result of his IMHA, Awesome-O likely suffered some sort of blood clot that surfaced without warning, and took him instantly. Apparently this is not always the case with these types of blood clots, so once again, not only did she confirm there was nothing more we could have done, but in a way, the fact that it was so quick was somewhat of a blessing. The last thing I would ever want is to see our beautiful baby dog suffer.
The imprint of love
She was also adamant about our remarkable commitment as pet parents, which led me to previously mentioned epiphany: old Sarah and new Sarah have at least one thing in common - both are meant to be pet moms. And I do believe I will be again.
I also believe that Awesome-O was an angel. I really do. He was angel who came into my life to show me a completely new way to love. And the loss of such an angel so soon - too soon - has been profoundly devastating, creating an ache and pain inside of me like none I've ever known.
Yet, it also opened up this flood of love from others, and that is the only thing that has made it possible for me to even consider how to survive or move forward.
So good news has indeed come to me by mail this past week. It kicked off off with an intimate friend summit last weekend with Andi and Lisa (anchored with a lot of tears, cheese, wine, and "Bridget Jones Diary"), with countless emails, Facebook messages, flowers, cakes, cards, letters, calls (that counts - voice mail, hello?), packages, and more since then, from the closest of friends and family to not-so-distant-after-all "strangers." Every single one of them - every single person who took any time to reach out to me? - is also an angel on Earth.
A plush fortune cookie pillow sent to me by my friend Melissa
A survival kit sent by my friend Shawna, containing Homemade mini-RUM cupcakes with little broken candy hearts to sprinkle on top.
The level of love has been remarkable. But that's the thing: while I've realized that opening myself up to love is the very thing that made me susceptible to having my heart broken, I also now know the only thing that can fuse my broken heart back together again: love. More love.
That is some serious chicken/egg, Catch-22 shit, but it's the truth.
Don't shoot the messenger.
PS: New Sarah also still has a mad, mad crush on Joel McHale. I may be empty, but I am not stupid.
Apparently, one thing we can say for sure about the new Sarah is she is full of corny puns.
This new Sarah also still has a lot of empty space to fill - a LOT. And who in their right mind would opt to have so much available real estate in this economy?
See, there's those corny puns I warned you about. Sorry.
Anyway, to refresh memories, last week's fortune predicted that good news would come to me via mail, but discovering this message in my swamp of grief made the idea of anything "good" on the horizon nearly impossible to believe. But here I am, running on empty, yet indeed with a few good things to report.
The first did not come via mail, traditional or electronic, but rather more of epiphany I had upon talking to our wonderful primary vet, Dr. Suzanne May. In a weird twist of horrible timing, she was on vacation last week when Awesome-O passed away, so she hadn't heard the news until just a few days ago.
Talking to her was of course incredibly emotional, but also surprisingly comforting. Her sympathy was so sincere, as her connection to Awesome-O was obviously not just as a patient but also as a living being so apparent. She confirmed much of what we thought: as a result of his IMHA, Awesome-O likely suffered some sort of blood clot that surfaced without warning, and took him instantly. Apparently this is not always the case with these types of blood clots, so once again, not only did she confirm there was nothing more we could have done, but in a way, the fact that it was so quick was somewhat of a blessing. The last thing I would ever want is to see our beautiful baby dog suffer.
She was also adamant about our remarkable commitment as pet parents, which led me to previously mentioned epiphany: old Sarah and new Sarah have at least one thing in common - both are meant to be pet moms. And I do believe I will be again.
I also believe that Awesome-O was an angel. I really do. He was angel who came into my life to show me a completely new way to love. And the loss of such an angel so soon - too soon - has been profoundly devastating, creating an ache and pain inside of me like none I've ever known.
Yet, it also opened up this flood of love from others, and that is the only thing that has made it possible for me to even consider how to survive or move forward.
So good news has indeed come to me by mail this past week. It kicked off off with an intimate friend summit last weekend with Andi and Lisa (anchored with a lot of tears, cheese, wine, and "Bridget Jones Diary"), with countless emails, Facebook messages, flowers, cakes, cards, letters, calls (that counts - voice mail, hello?), packages, and more since then, from the closest of friends and family to not-so-distant-after-all "strangers." Every single one of them - every single person who took any time to reach out to me? - is also an angel on Earth.
A survival kit sent by my friend Shawna, containing Homemade mini-RUM cupcakes with little broken candy hearts to sprinkle on top.
The level of love has been remarkable. But that's the thing: while I've realized that opening myself up to love is the very thing that made me susceptible to having my heart broken, I also now know the only thing that can fuse my broken heart back together again: love. More love.
That is some serious chicken/egg, Catch-22 shit, but it's the truth.
Don't shoot the messenger.
PS: New Sarah also still has a mad, mad crush on Joel McHale. I may be empty, but I am not stupid.
Posted by Sarah Grace McCandless at 2/4/2010 11:46 PM 
Categories: Dumb Luck
Tags: Grief Television Friends Love Hurt Family Awesome-O Film
Categories: Dumb Luck
Tags: Grief Television Friends Love Hurt Family Awesome-O Film
Glad some goodness flooded in. You deserve it.
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