It has been a warm, sunny fall weekend here in Central British Columbia. I am babysitting my neighbour’s delightful eight year old Shih Tzu cross, an adoptee and the sweetest creature. Since she was adopted at the end of May, the routine has been that she comes across their patio and crosses mine to wait for her treat. Not only is it sweet, this reassuring routine is the framework upon which a little dog’s life gleans comfort.
Since she’s been staying with me I have examined my present need for routine and stability and agree with my little four footed friend. Since Sam’s passing, many thoughts have trucked thorough my mind, and I have discovered that I, like little Missy, seem to need routine.
Living and caring for someone who is terminally ill removes routine from your life, because the illness claims whatever time is available. After the fact, It has taken me months to re-discover a healthy routine for my own health. Those that whispered “look after yourself” while Sam was sick had the right idea… just the wrong timing. As a person who has loved and cared for my soul mate, the only choice you make is for them. In the aftermath of his death, it has taken me a great deal of time and soul searching to find myself again.
I am discovering a different person; someone not quite so certain of my thoughts, a bit beaten and yet not defeated, and stepping carefully into what I know will allow a forward flow into an unknown future -