Loss and Grieving

Loss of a loved one garners emotions that hurt to the very core of who you are. Humans experience such emotions, because we have the power to love. We lost our lovely daughter nearly three years ago, and the deep pain never goes away. We just learn to live with it. Our daughter, Riki, married her childhood sweetheart. They had been together since they were 12, and it was a life long love story until her death at the age of 34. She left behind three bright and lovely children, and the love of her life, Jonathan, and her brother, Stevie, and her parents.

My observation is that people don’t always know what to say when a friend, co-worker, or acquaintance are grieving. My suggestion is that you ask about it. Ask about the well-being of the one who is grieving. Give a loving pat, hug, touch, or anything that establishes a physical presence. I cannot imagine anyone, in the throes of grief, who would not appreciate such a gesture. It is a most generous gesture, and it takes nothing from you.

Also, I can tell you what not to say: “Life goes on.” Not sure why anyone would say such a non-affectionate, heartless thing. As the news got around about our daughter, several people said that to me. Okay, I get it. They simply did not know what to say. Then, I think, say nothing at all. Other phrases that I’ve heard, “Aren’t you over it yet?”It boggles my mind.

I can say, here, that grief is not a linear process. One simply learns a new way of life with its emotional ups and downs while missing the loved one. Our daughter was extraordinary, and we see it in her children. She was on this earth, as their mother, just enough to instill her joy for life, her curiosity, and her acerbic wit! We miss you so very much, Riki. I’m not posting pictures of her family since the children are young, and Jonathan needs his privacy.

Now, are you wondering why there is a dog in my featured photo. That’s our Scottish Terrier, Fiona. She’s in our back yard, and please notice, she is under the watchful eye of St. Francis, patron saint of animals.

Fiona came to us 13 1/2 years ago. Her parents, Skye and Shamus, and her brother, Tavish, lived with their humans, Jeff and Jo. We shared furbaby sitting with Jeff and Jo. We lost daddy, Shamus, in April 2017, mom, Skye, April 2018, and two days ago, Tavish went over the “Rainbow Bridge”. Loss is never easy, even when it’s our family “pets”. Our furkids are such a deep part of our lives, especially when those animals belonged to our children. Here’s Tavish, Fiona’s brother:

Most people who have dogs or cats know that they are important members of the family. I have read that children who are experiencing hardship, in any form, are better able to cope if they have a close relationship to a family pet. I tend to think that dogs are the better choice. I find that cats are a little too independent to be affectionate when there are high emotions in the home.

Our love of Scottish Terriers began when we bought one for Stevie when he was in 7th grade. Beth, was affectionate and sweet. We lost her to heart failure when she was eight. We had found an abandoned cat, Skippy, who was two weeks old. Bethy raised that cat with all the parental chores of the “whelping nest”. Here they are:

They were inseparable, and when Bethy died, Skippy screamed while looking for her, for weeks. Their favorite past time was watching the world go by at the front window when they were not outside. I have several pictures of the two, and the only thing that changed was the weather!

Sometimes, Skippy and Bethy even allowed the tabby, Clovis, to share their window-watching space. Notice the snow.

We still have Fiona. Skippy, Beth, and Fiona’s family are gone now. We know that 13 1/2 is old for a canine, so we dread the day. Our furkids continue to help us through our grieving for Riki, for which we are grateful. Here’s Fiona and our sheep dog, Jitsu. They’re watching it rain from the deck, Fiona looking woolly and in need of a Scottie trim.