Thursday, July 2, 2009
Another Day Passes
On the National Mall, close to the American History museum.
Every time the phone rings, I'm sure it's the vet calling to ask when I'm going to come pick up my dog. That's the last place I saw him, after all. Yesterday after my marathon walk around the city, I found myself rushing home to get the dog "squared away" as I always said. That's a habit that will be hard to break. This morning when I woke up I stared hard at the place where Jake slept, as if staring hard enough would somehow materialize him. I am having the longing for the departed that's the central experience of grief. Forget anger, denial, bargaining and acceptance - all I feel is yearning, longing for my old old dog.
The good news is I saw the Sufi acupuncturist yesterday and as always he worked his magic on me. (He would say that Chinese medicine is NOT magic but it always feels that way to me.) After the treatment, he said he had managed to "stop the bleeding." And in fact I do feel closer to whole than I have since I made the decision to say goodbye to Jake. So that's good, isn't it? I think it is.
As I was walking around yesterday, it occured to me that some people probably thought the black arm band was my way of grieving for Michael Jackson, not that I really care what anyone thinks. It is kind of funny, though. Funny that from now on I will always link MJ's music with Jake's death. Funny weird and probably funny ha-ha, too.
You can't imagine how much I look forward to a good laugh, to feeling light and goofy again. I know it will happen, not yet though. Grief is horrible, it's really awful. It sucks.
Lafayette Park by the White House. The sun was coming and going from behind the clouds.