December 16th 143a

Every day another bit of my soul dies off. Another part of my connection to my precious girl; gone. Often I find myself just pacing back and forth not really being conscious that I am doing it. I pace at home. I pace at work. I suppose if I paid attention I would probably find myself doing it on the street as well. I have to say I would fit right in in my neighborhood too. But that's a whole other story.

If I tried to figure out why I guess it is because if I sit too long with nothing to do, it will all just start flashing back as if I am there again, in the vet's office, with my girl laying there on the table wrapped in a towel, dead.

I am there again on my knees all over again, screaming at the air around me,

"Not my baby girl, please God, not my baby girl."

I can feel the tears starting all over again, my chest tightening, not being able to breath.

Sometimes the flashbacks are of our last look, my eyes meeting hers, in that one brief moment before I left the room. So much was said between us in that last look. So many emotions. So many thing left unsaid.

The pain of it is more than I can bear.

I have been apologizing to my son. I feel so responsible for her death. That I should have done something, anything, that would have altered the course of her life.

But I didn't.

And that I will have to live with for the rest of my life.

I look into Lars eyes, especially when we play. I can see him react at the slightest noise in another room. His eyes focusing, head up, with his ears pricked, listening intently for any sign of his sister. Then I see the pain well up from deep within him again, his eyes going vacant, as vacant as mine.

I hate looking into mirrors now too. I just can't stand to see the reflection of my own loss staring me in the face day after day. The same pain I see reflected back to me in the eyes of my son.

Every day I am attempting to restart my life, trying as much as I can to dull the pain. I do it because more or less I do not know what else to do. I can say though that my heart is definitely not in it.

I can't see a life going forward without my girl.

There is no life to go forward to.

I never really got that she was the center of my world when she was alive. That she was the energy that made it possible for me to go on. I didn't plan it that way either. I didn't say to her,

"This is your assigned role."

It just happened that way. Maybe it was because that was who she was. Maybe it was because that was who we all were. I don't know.

All I know now is that I am lost without her, lost in a wilderness of my own making.

I didn't realize until today that my bodily shock of the first few days had just been replaced by an emotional shock. That in reality I am no better off than I was the day she died. I am only different.

I do understand that it will take time, a lot of time. I do understand in my head that I will survive this. I'm just at a loss for the reasons why my grief is so all pervasive. I have lost so many during my lifetime. More than I care to count. I buried two ex lovers, many very close companions, and countless friends. All of who I loved very much. All of who were integral to my life. So why now is this loss so strong? Why now is this loss making me feel like I am dying a slow and painful death?

At this very moment I have to say that I don't really care if I know or not. And in a way I do not care if I survive this either. That is how deeply painful it is in the moment.

I remember Blanche saying on The Golden Girls,

"Life as I know it has ended...... I'm only holding on so I can read Danielle Steele's next book."

I wonder why I am holding on. Why yet again I am trying to white knuckle it?

I guess my answer would be, "because I really wonder if there is actually life after death? Sylvia's death that is." Whether I will survive to live another day being happy and fulfilled?

Or maybe like Blanche I've decide that I'm just going to hold on so I can read Toni Morrison's next book.