Thank you for the kind words about the passing of Foxie Doxie. They truly mean more than I can ever say.
This is hard.
I’m cycling through all the stages of I’m-not-good-at-this grief:
- Eat your feelings. Pad Thai for breakfast and pizza for lunch? Don’t mind if I do!
- Sleep. All the damned time. My excuse is that sleep was a rare commodity the last week of Foxie Doxie’s life. The truth is probably closer to “I don’t want to face the world.”
- Watch “Rambo: First Blood Part II.” This is actually a really good movie. If you’re grieving, I highly recommend channeling your pain through John Rambo. He will shoot people, and it will make you feel better. You’ll feel guilty for feeling better, but you’ll feel better.
- Call your parents and start crying when you hear your dad’s kind, even voice. Make him tell you all about how he went to coffee and then to the dentist this morning, and take comfort in your dad being your dad and the beauty of the everyday.
- Make an executive decision to wash your hair and put on some pants. Not sweatpants. Real pants. Implement this decision, even though it takes longer than usual to prepare to face the world.
- Leave the house. See friends. Realize the depth and breadth of your riches, as well as the simple power of a frou-frou cocktail.
- Love on your dogs. They’re hurting, too. Cuddle up, even though the entire house still smells like dog pee and you should scrub the floors instead. Choose love and a slight funk over a clean house.
What’s your go-to stage of grief? Clearly, I’m no expert. Any suggestions?