Only the Beginning... Oskee #2

There's a music lyric for everything.  Of course, in this case, when Robert Lamm wrote these lyrics for the band Chicago, he was writing about the beginning of a beautiful relationship. This morning, all I could think about was the end of one. Isn't it ironic? Ok, I'll stop, but not really.

So I'm exposed - I pretty much live my life by quotes from two sources: Music Lyrics and Quotes from Richard Bach. My family will tell you, that when we flip around the radio from station to station playing REAL music, not most of the crap from the last few decades, it takes a nanosecond for me to start singing. In the realm of useless knowledge, I'm a lyric savant.

But that's not why we're here. I'm here to ponder the last 12 or so hours - these were the quietest hours I have spent in quite some time. There's nothing like the absence of the pitter-patter of dog nails on a wood floor to make the world feel hollow. And there's nothing quite like the feeling of coming home from euthanizing your dog to find the Amazon box with the auto-reorder of your dogs treats - her favorite treats that'll never be eaten by her.

Dead inside. That's the feeling I had when I woke this morning. There were snowflakes. Oskee loved the snow. If the sky was cryin' for Oskee, I suppose snow stack of pills, no Alon telling Oskee "no" when she tried to sneak a bit of his waffle or pancake. Silence. Dead.

And it's only the beginning...

Somehow, Brandi and I dragged ourselves to work. As you can see, I'm about as useful here as a stone. The assessments are piling up, and I can't bring myself to look at them. I am being evaluated next week by my boss, and I am starting a new unit - and I have no idea what dog and pony show I'm going to put on for him to justify my competence. We have 2 large literacy committee meetings next week, my passion of the last 5 years, and I cannot imagine standing in front of a group of colleagues right now. I mean, I nearly lost it within 5 minutes of the start of 1st period today.

And it's only the beginning...

In a few hours, I'm leaving with Ami for a soccer tournament in Memphis. We are driving 8+ hours for 3 or 4 soccer games. Last week, I was so excited to share precious moments with my son. Now I dread the silence of the car. At 11, he is quite aware for his age. He watched Nadav (8) for 2 hours or so while we were at the vet. We called to ask if they wanted to be at the vet to say a final goodbye, but they said they already did their goodbyes in the morning.  And when we got home after picking Alon up from daycare, we found that our two eldest boys had made us dinner. It was pasta......and they ended up eating it, but it was the gesture. It was the idea that they knew what pain we were in.  It was the worry they had because I hadn't eaten in 24 hours at that point. And with a weekend ahead of us, I have no confidence that I can be strong for my son - or at least as strong as he was for me last night.

And it's only the beginning...

I can't get the images out of my head. I can't help feeling guilty for what we did - even though the vet said it was time and that she was in pain. But it's the image - holding her for the last time, seeing her lying there for the last time...it's only the beginning and I don't know if the pain will ever go away and if I'll ever be whole again.

For now, I'm dead inside. The house is absent of the pitter-patter. No walks, no playing, no snuggles, no wagging tail.

And it's only the beginning...

And old habits die hard - I can't count the times that Brandi and I looked towards Oskee's couch last night to see what she was up to only to end up feeling dead inside. I awoke at 1am, per usual, but there was no one to let out to pee.

And today, I woke up and it was snowing. Maybe the sky was crying snowflakes which would have been appropriate because for most of her life, Oskee hated the rain. But there was to be no walk, no Oskee chasing me to pull the glove (monster) off my hand, no Alon asking to give Oskee treats after her pills, no Alon telling Oskee "no" as she tried to sneak a bite of his waffle. The sky is crying, and so is Oskee's family, and it hurts like hell.

And it's only the beginning...

I know you're out there. I know you've reached out. Like I said, I can't respond. My eyes hurt too much. I have no words. But yes, Pink, there is somebody out there. I appreciate it and love you all. So many of you loved Oskee and have your own stories and memories, and I know she loved so many of you.