S is for Sorrow

I remember when my dog was old and dying. She had been my companion, best friend, from the beginning. I couldn't remember her not being there. She was with me everywhere and slept with me every night. I knew she understood me in a way noone else did; I told her everything. But when she was dying, when her time was ending, I couldn't be around her. I made my mom take her to bed with her. I couldn't watch her die. I gave them the blanket they wrapped her in to bury her, but I wouldn't see her. She's with me still, in my dreams. My God, that's over 30 years ago and it feels like yesterday.

Death isn't easy for me to deal with. I have finally accepted it as a part of living, that it's there. I've dealt with many deaths: Grandparents, friends. I've avoided many deaths, too. My best friend lost her brother and neice, but I couldn't be there for her. I'm lost with things like that. It hit too close to home. My father is dying, he has alzheimer's, and I fear my mother won't be far behind. When I was living in the same town as them I was the care taker. I was living a morbid life; putting everything on hold waiting for them to die. I couldn't do that anymore, because of my son. He needs to be able to live, and there we were just waiting. So we moved. Not far away, but far enough for it to be a journey to get there.

Now I feel like it's my dog all over again. I don't want to see them. It's so hard to go back because everytime I do they've changed so much. I feel so guilty because this is my Mom, my father; but it hurts so much to see them old. I have friends who have lost their parents; how do they go on? I am lost.