This is the Truth

Let us be honest here; I would not be good in a crisis. Sure I could maybe come up with some ideas to help, but let's face it, I'd just tell it how it was - that is if I knew how it was iin the first place. 

Take right now for example - I'm sitting around bawling my eyes out because I am absolutely useless in my current crisis - Heidi is dying and has now gone missing - I know she's gone away to die. I know she will not be back. I know I might never see her again. My mum is in bits, completely lost and broken; every part of her rational brain is hearing me but some part of her is still hopeful that if she sits outside in the rain for long enough, Heidi just might come back. I don't know what to say to her, to do. 

Heidi is more than a dog to my mum, more than a pet or family member; that dog is my mums whole world; my mums says are centred around her; her life is an endless report on Heidi's. Heidi is there when my mum is happy, or sad, emotional, stressed, panicking, and breaking down. Now she's not here at the moment when she needs her most - I can't help but feel cheated; like she's ran off when we need her most. It's selfish and thankfully not a prominent thought; but it is there and I did promise to be truthful. 

How do you replace an arm, or a leg or a left foot? You can physically, but will it ever truly be the same? 

How do I help her come to terms with this very important piece of her dying? 

How can I express my anger and frustration at a time when everyone else is already in so much pain. This wasn't in the guide book.

Honestly I thought I would have more time. I thought I'd have some warning. I didn't expected to wake up one morning to the sound of my mum crying to end here, sitting at the kitchen table waiting for a miracle.

It's at this time a puppy from Heidi would have been useful - not identical but enough of one to cover the basics. 

This is worse than anytime before - probably because her rock is gone. 

My brain keeps getting morbid images of her lying somewhere, dead and cold. I know that's natural now - the picturing the unknown; before it would have scared me. It doesn't help though, knowing a thought is natural. 

Struggling so much, want to just curl up into a ball.

But this is what life is, this is natural, death is natural, we all die. 

What happens in the after though? What happens to the people we leave behind? 

What happens now?