Two Weeks Since

It’s been two weeks…

Since I heard the sound of your voice. I remember the very first time I heard it. It sounded high but confident. It made me fall in love with you at the very first note because back then it felt like you weren’t speaking, you were singing. And you thought you were so fearless that everyone around you will know how tough you are and respect you for it. But there were times when we could enjoy just talking together. In that soft singy-songy voice of yours, you would tell me about your day or the time we were apart. Those were some of my favorite moments.

It’s been two quiet weeks.

It’s been two weeks…

Since I’ve seen your dreamy sparkling brown eyes. They were unusual even for your kind. They were so bright in the sun that they reminded me of two rare pieces of amber one would find only in the deep forests of the Baltics. They were always so full of love and admiration whenever you looked at me and I know you were watching me all the time, even when I didn’t think you could. Our feelings were mutual so we could communicate by just looking at each other, no words were ever necessary. However, if something pissed you off, or just simply seemed like a threat to us and our family, your eyes would get dark and wild. It was like many generations of your ancestors were rising in you at that moment turning you into the most dangerous being on the planet. One look and anyone (animal or human) would know that you would give your life before you would let any harm come to us. How did you do it? How were you able to keep two completely different personalities inside of you? It must have been so hard to understand your own emotions. Or maybe you didn’t worry about it and just simply followed your instincts? It’s possible… I wish I would have asked you about it sooner.

It's been two long weeks.

It’s been two weeks…

Since you and I had breakfast together. I had some eggs; you chose ice cream. I thought it was a slightly weird choice in the morning but you weren’t feeling well, we had a rough night so I gave in. If you think about it, it all goes to the same gut so what does it matter in what order we eat things, right? You enjoyed it too. I was a little jealous because my eggs didn’t come out that great but I didn’t want to admit that your choice was the right one after all. In our many years together, we shared so many meals. You were always so patient when I was cooking something special for us. We both knew our favorite dishes and even in that, we were a total match. You liked everything I did and gladly joined in any of my culinary excursions. I could rely on you to taste it for me when I wasn’t brave enough to be the first one to do it. You would let me know when it was too spicy or salty or not sweet enough with that adorable head nod of yours. I opened the refrigerator this morning, shocked at how empty it was. What have I been eating for the last two weeks? Nothing seems right if I can’t share it with you.

It's been two unbearable weeks.

It’s been two weeks…

Since we went for a ride together. You loved it when I drove. I was gentle, specifically since the doctor gave us that horrible news six months ago. I never wanted to be someone who causes you extra pain so I tried to be lighter on my feet, which was not easy for me! I spoke softer and drove slower so my turns and braking were not as impactful to you. We liked to look out the window and talked about everything we saw. Did you know you had the funniest expression on your face when we moved to this area and started seeing horses and barn animals everywhere we went? Every time you saw them, it seemed like a new revelation, like you have not seen anything this magnificently big in your entire life before. Every trip was special because we knew that our time together will be limited, that it can be cut short at any moment. And so we went. It didn’t matter where – store, beach, end of the road. The idea was to get in the car, buckle up and just go sticking to our routine. You are probably the only one who would tolerate my constant singing in the car. On occasion, when you liked the melody, you would even join in. It always made me laugh – were you trying to upstage me or just showed me how it’s done for real? I never asked, I took it for granted so now I would never know.

It's been two empty weeks.

It’s been two weeks…

Since the last time we slept in the same bed. Ever since we were together, I loved you so much, I wanted to make sure you were the most comfortable. Especially, for the last six months. I knew how hard it was for you to keep your breathing normal and actually fall asleep. It’s hard to keep still when your temperature jumps every couple of hours and everything in your body is agitated. I made sure to tuck you in to keep you warm when you would finally fall asleep. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning to find your head on my shoulder sleeping so soundly that I would be afraid to move or breathe so I wouldn’t disturb you. You were the cutest when you had your sleepy face on. Do you know what I appreciated the most about you in the mornings? You were never grouchy! Regardless of how hard of a night you had or how much you were hurting, I have never seen anything from you but pure unconditional love, particularly in the morning when we could spend those precious few minutes together, just the two of us, before the craziness of the day would find us and we had to get up and start our routine. As strange as it sounds, it became a routine, wouldn’t you agree? The snack so you could take your meds. The pills one at a time. The fight over that big one you never wanted to take until I talk you into it. The injections. And a little walk outside for some fresh air to give you a bit more energy for the day before you could try to take your mid-morning nap and I could log in to work.

It's been two lonely weeks.

It’s been two weeks…

Since my world flipped upside down and is refusing to snap back into its place. It doesn’t feel like the sun belongs where it shows up every single morning. How could the earth continue to rotate and push life forward when our lives together are no longer a part of it? How can I go out in the car again when you are not there, sitting next to me, touching me from time to time to let me know that you care about me? How could people around me discuss trivial things like politics or shopping or theater plays when all I want to do is talk about you and keep you close while I’m clinging to your favorite hoodie next to me? How could life continue in our house, neighborhood, the city as if nothing happened? Are we really all that expendable that the world hasn’t noticed that you are no longer a part of it? How could I survive losing you and step over the void in my heart? Nothing feels or looks the same anymore, nothing. I keep sitting at the window in our chair where we loved to stay together looking out at the mountains. Arguing over how fast each of the weirdly shaped clouds would reach the next snowy peak. Watching the people walking through the fields in the distance with their pets and discussing condescendingly how much prettier our place and our life was compared to theirs. Because while we had each other, everything was right in the world. And so, I now sit here thinking about how unbearably long it’s been… since I had to let you go, my beautiful four-legged furry daughter. The best doggy daughter anyone could have ever asked for. I miss you every day, every hour, and every minute, while I patiently wait for you to show me a little sign as you always did, that it’s time to move on and start to heal.

It's been two weeks since the last time I said “I love you, my baby girl.”