Cruise Countdown Tickers

Monday, April 18, 2011

RIP, old friend

Countdown to cruise: 53 days.

I knew this day was coming, but no matter how much I thought I had prepared, it still knocked me down. Hard. Last Monday, I lost my fur-child Elijah.

I realized over the course of events last week that I have been very fortunate to never have experienced such a loss. In my 36 years, I have never had someone very close to me die, which I am thankful for, but my lucky streak ended abruptly at 5:07pm, April 11, 2011. The worst part about it was that I had to make the decision to let him go. His body was old, very tired, and started crapping out on him. The part that threw me for a loop was that his spirit was quite the opposite. He still had a sparkle in his eye, still found a way to stand up on those wobbly, unforgiving legs to show me how excited he was that I came home from work everyday. He still got excited about his favorite foods, and still mustered up the strength to climb up on the sofa in the evenings to lay his head in my lap while I watched television. I hated having to face that after 14 years, cataracts, deafness, fragile hips, a cancer diagnosis, and rapid neurological decline, I couldn't be selfish any longer.

I quickly had to learn how to cope with the heaviness, the aching heart, & the general discomfort of being awake and having to deal with this decision. I only ate when my body reminded me by making me dizzy, and Starbucks became my drug of choice for about five days. (Apparently when faced with losing someone I loved so much, I am comforted by the flavors of a caramel macchiato?) Though I was exhausted, I couldn't turn my mind off long enough to get any sleep. I kept replaying many of the good times we had from the time he was a puppy up till now, and how I much I hated having to be the one to let him go. I prayed for days on end that he would just give in to his old age, and slip away on his own. But, he remained true-to-form until the very last day, strong-willed and determined to be with me no matter what.

My husband deserves a huge nod here. I already knew I was married to an amazing human being, but he went far beyond what I could've ever hoped to have next to me during this sad experience. He, too, was hurting , yet did nothing but help me. An example of his kindness:

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I had gone to the grocery store very early Sunday morning, since I hadn't really slept anyway & we were low on food. When I got back, this was waiting for me on my bathroom mirror. I nearly dissolved at his sweet gesture, his little thoughts reminding me "It will get easier" and how much he loved me. Add to this all the dishes he did, all the vacuuming he did, the grave he dug for our beloved pooch, the fact that he carried him back there himself & buried him, and that he's already been looking at headstones and you will get an inkling at what a super duper man I have. He texted me religiously when he had to be at work, always checking on my well-being, telling me it was breaking his heart to see me so sad, and reminding me he loved me. I will never be able to repay him for his kindness, and I'm beyond grateful he was thoughtful enough to keep up with the stuff that needed to continue being done, while I was busy holding vigil by my dog's side. I truly fell in love with him all over again.

I'm now in the stage where everything is weird. I think I hear his nails tapping on the hardwood floors at night like he's walking around, I still plan my outings from home around his bladder & having to let him out, I still go to call him when I'm cooking & something drops on the floor, I tell myself "I'll just give that to the dog" when there's leftover meat or gravy in a pan ... that sort of thing. I miss him. I miss him terribly, and there's a hole in my heart now that he's gone. This was my first experience with putting a dog down, and it was awful. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I had a big struggle with guilt about that decision, but luckily, I have been surrounded by compassionate, loving people who have helped me see I did what was best for him. You know who your true friends are when you go through something this hard, and I am thankful for mine. I had such an outpouring of support, it was overwhelming! My co-workers even pitched in and surprised me with a HUGE gift basket on my first day back to work. It was filled with all different kinds of gouda, mozzarella, cheddar, cheesecake brownies, salt & vinegar chips, scones, a baguette, fresh fruit, tres leches cake, yogurt pretzels, pizza, truffles, pasta, and a 6-pack of Guinness - basically all the things I love most from Whole Foods.

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Amy hauled 3 of her 4 children with her to my office, just so she could give me a keepsake box and some flowers.

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In addition to that, I've had two friends offer to plant trees near his grave, and endless emails and texts to let me know they've kept our family in their prayers. I can say, for a fact, there are still good & decent people left in this world, and a crapload of them are my friends.

When everything is said and done, and though our hearts have healed some, we know will never be able to replace Elijah. I will forever miss him, his goofy personality, his steadfast loyalty, and his irritatingly stubborn habits. Next time I throw a frisbee with a dog, it will feel a little off, because it's not him. If and when we get a new puppy, it'll be hard not to make comparisons to him when he was that young. Every night, at least for a while, when we're watching tv after Z's in bed and all is quiet, my heart will sting a little because I don't have his velvet-head in my lap. He was crazy, he was headstrong, he was fiercely intelligent, and he was my baby. I'll never forget him, and I hope he'll be the first to greet me when my time comes.

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In his younger years.

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His intense frisbee stare.

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After going for a walk, back when Z was about three.

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The excited look he'd get if I asked if he wanted to play frisbee.
(Note his tail and the blur of motion)

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Recovering from a frisbee session.

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His guilty look, when he knew he had done something naughty.

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Regal protector, scoping out the front yard.

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Growling older, slowing down more.

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Three days before he died, up in my lap at night.

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The day before he died, came to find out what I was doing when I was taking a bath, though he could barely walk.

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Rest in peace, old friend.
Elijah Gesch Lawson
1/23/97 - 4/11/11



Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Soccer, hockey, swimming - oh my!

Countdown to cruise: 65 days. (*squeal!*)

Soccer is back! We started practices on March 23, and had our first game this past Saturday. We got the "dream team" back together again this season, so it's nice to see all the old familiar faces after a few months off. The boys are excited to be together and playing again, so it's fun to see them all jazzed up.

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Rallying the troops at practice.

As you can see, Aaron is co-coaching once again. We had our first game this past weekend, and Z was on FIRE! He's really learning the positions on the field and attacking the ball. He scored two goals, including the first one of the season. He was so excited! This is what sports is all about, and I'm glad he's finally old enough to start feeling that sense of accomplishment and pay-off for his focus.

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Huddle up.

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He excels on defense.

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Loves to attack that ball.

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Leading the pack.

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Mmm, post-game snack.

We had a rather exciting (note: sarcasm) bathroom adventure take place - other bathroom this time. Z's faucet decided it didn't feel like turning off one night, so there started the crazy bathroom shenanigans. Poor Aaron worked so hard trying to figure out what the problem was, but our night quickly turned into: turn water off outside, fiddle with parts inside, turn water back on, barely escape flooding the bathroom, repeat. Ahhh, the joys of home ownership. The only way Aaron could get the new part to stay in was by rigging it up with rope.

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This was about the time we figured we better give in and call a plumber for help. My wonderful father hooked us up with his very trustworthy plumber, and they came out that next morning. We were so glad to see him, but that relief quickly turned to fear as he explained how he needed to bust through our wall to reach the pipe for replacing. I almost threw up listening to him bashing the tiles in.

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But, thankfully, it was repaired and is back to fully functional now. Z can still take his baths and I can turn the faucet off - it's a win-win. Granted, it's looking a bit ghetto at the moment, but we will attack the cosmetic stuff this weekend. Of course, Z thinks it's super cool that he can look into the wall, but I would have to disagree.

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This past Sunday, we were invited to an ice hockey game with my best friend's husband & two of their sons. I haven't been to a hockey game since I was a small kid in Michigan (go Red Wings!), so I was excited to go again. The boys l-o-v-e-d it, especially when the players would break into a fight. Personally, I've seen worse fights on 6th street - these guys were practically dancing with each other - but it was entertaining nonetheless. Sadly, our Texas Stars lost to the Rockford Icehogs.

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Z and Preston, eagerly waiting for the usher to let them to their seats.

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Such focus ...

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What Brandon watched the most. He loves him some cheerleaders.

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Fight!

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Lastly, Z started swim lessons! Yes, I know - I'm the only Mom in the universe that started her kid in swim lessons at the age of 8. I've realized along the way that I was apparently supposed to have started him in lessons when he was a fetus, or at least that's the impression other Moms have given me. But, when have I ever done anything like everyone else, right? My reasoning for waiting was because I wanted him to go when he was comfortable doing so. I was a kid who was forced into swim lessons when I was really small, and I hated it. HATED IT. Therefore, I wanted to wait for him to want to learn, so there was no forcing or fear involved. After this past summer, he finally showed interest in wanting to learn how to swim, so my plan worked - ha! He started group lessons (5 kids in the group) this week, and will be taking them twice a week for at least the next three months - probably longer, but three months are what I have pre-paid so far. He was a little nervous at first, but quickly got into it and loves his teacher. He asked if he could do lessons everyday, so I'm guessing that means he is enjoying himself.

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I suppose it's safe to say, we have one active little dude on our hands. That's ok, it helps keep time whizzing by so I can get on my cruise faster. In the downtime between soccer practice, soccer games, and swim practice, I tend to daydream about glaciers and what kinds of new foods I will be able to try in Alaska. *happy sigh* When I'm not daydreaming, I'm either working out or reading this new blog I found, Food Network Humor. It pokes fun at the celebrity chefs and their shows on The Food Network, and it's hysterical. Sure, it's immature and juvenile, but hysterical nonetheless.

Until next time ... love, peace, & chicken grease to you all. Hugs!