Jeans: Target • Sweater: Motherhood Maternity (cute non-maternity here and one with grey stripes and fringes here)• Silk blouse: Nordstrom Rack, old (similar here) • Necklace: a Swedish store, old (similar here in white and here in pink) • Sunnies: Cole Haan (similar style) • Purse: Coach (similar) • Boots: Jessica Simpson
This past Saturday was spent sitting at an adorable Swedish bakery eating, talking, writing, and drawing. The atmosphere was quant and homey and the food was fantastic. Especially the Semla. But in spite of our smiles and self-inflicted distractions, we were hurting deep down inside. Still mourning the loss of my little Swedish fur-baby, Sven– even after a full year has passed.
I should probably stop here, but this is on my mind so I’m going to share it anyway.
I’m always amazed by how much Sven meant to me and how much I miss him daily. His death so sudden and traumatic. I cannot believe I’m admitting this to you on such a frivolous blog, but… I only recently stopped regularly crying over losing him. I wish I knew he had a heart condition. I wish I could go back in time to get him the right medicine. That would have at least given me enough time to mentally prepare.
To say that my last memory of him is not peaceful is an understatement. He was sickly that night and I stayed up with him, cuddling him on the bathroom floor, not realizing how sick he really was. I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep by him. At 5AM I woke up. He wasn’t there. I found him under the bed, gasping for air; eyes bulging, tongue out, hind legs paralyzed. It was a nightmare, but it was real life and I was awake. We rushed him to a veterinary clinic that was open where a well-meaning vet told us we had to put him out of his misery and swiftly injected him. He was gone. I don’t know how long the visit to the clinic took, but it felt like milliseconds.
If you’ve lost someone, I’m sure you know what I mean, times a zillion.
As we sat in the bakery reflecting on the life of my little Sven I realized that I’ve had a hard time finding peace about all of this because I don’t understand why it happened. He was such a sweet, innocent little guy, why could God let him die? But if everything happens for a reason (and I believe it does), there’s something to learn from little Sven. I’m still not 100% sure what that lesson is, but I think for me it’s that we need to cherish the ones we love. Don’t take anyone for granted. We have no idea what could happen in the blink of an eye. That also means that we all need to be prepared to go and we need to encourage others to do the same. We can’t stop death, but we can band together and support each other, we can learn from it or it can destroy our own wellbeing.
So there I sat with my handsome husband, talking and laughing. Having fun with the man I love. It was a distraction from the pain, but healing to reminisce. I drew Beckett as he wrote a story about Sven for me and I realized all over again how insanely lucky I am to be married to such a loving, caring man. I think that was the whole point of that day.
Too many of you know this lesson far more intimately than I. My grief probably sounds silly to those who have endured worse. How did you cope with the loss of a loved one? How did you find peace? Have you found any glimpses of “good” as a result of a loss?