Catching up list, continued.

Busy weekend, spent most of it at Central Market. That meant the little time at home was not spent blogging, but rather, enjoying my boys and sleeping. Lets pick up where we left off, shall we?

January 23, 2012 marked the day that would have been my dog's 15th birthday. Depsite being aware that he had a really good run having lived until he was 14, his would've-been birthday still hit me like a ton of bricks.

To be honest, I really didn't see this coming. I started the day like any other day, then got my first Facebook message filled with well-wishes and concern for my state of mind as I faced his first birthday since he died. Then, I talked to my Dad, my Mom, and my best friend all within a two-hour span of time, which had me a blubbery mess by the end of it all. Everyone was so sweet & thoughtful, sending me nothing but good vibes and virtual hugs to get me through the day, but once that conversation took place, it's like the flood-gates opened. There was no stopping the steady flow of tears for him and how I had spent every January 23 for the prior 14 years gathering special treats for his day -- rotisserie chicken or tuna, a piece of cake, and vanilla Blue Bell ice cream (to name a few). I pulled myself together after the morning passed, but only to then fall apart all over again before bedtime. I hadn't cried like that for him probably since the days after his death. It was cathartic, but difficult. My son accidentally saw me mid-bawling, because he got out of bed to go to the bathroom around 10:30pm. I was on the computer looking at old pictures of my beloved, crazy pooch, and Z asked what was wrong. I told him I just missed my dog, and he gently came over, placed his small arms around my neck and pulled me close, then whispered, "me too, Mom. Me too." He sweetly kissed my head after letting me cry on him for a few minutes, told me he'd see me in the morning & that he loved me, then quietly went back to bed. It was like God felt sorry for me, so he sent my little angel in to give me some comfort, and I'll never forget that tender moment with my boy as long as I live. As for moving on & getting another dog, my head knows I will bond with another dog again someday, but my heart is still stuck in the place that I'll never have that kind of connection with another animal ever again. Or maybe I just feel guilty about that happening. Almost like I'm feeling some weird sense of betrayal if I open my heart up to another creature the way I did to him. As I type that, I'm aware it sounds so silly, but in the sad, darker moments when I'm missing him, it seems to make sense. I don't know. I do believe, though, this is what they call the grieving process - and I'm wading my through day by day. Hard to believe that in roughly 42 days, he'll have been gone a year. Time sure does fly.

Tomorrow, Anthony Bourdain and cruising. (Thank you God, for both ...)