Early in this unexpected and unwelcome journey, I began having heart-to-heart conversations with Lilly. These days, those conversations are a little different.
“I’m sorry you got so sick again.”
“Me too. I’m sorry to make you worry so much.”
“I’m sorry I’m crabby sometimes.”
“It’s OK. I’m sorry I wake you up all night long, and I hate this whole diaper thing.”
“I know you do. It isn’t your fault … I’m doing my best, but this might not work.”
“I know. I’m doing my best too.”
“If you need to go, I’ll understand. Just let me know.”
“I will.”
“No matter what, I’ll love you forever.”
“I’ll love you too. Thanks for everything.”
Those conversations help, don’t they? I had many with my Casey for 2 months before she told me that she needed me to let her go. Like you, when we started our long talks, I didn’t know then how long I would have…2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years. But our conversations helped me a lot when the time finally came.
The bond you have with Lily is all that you’ll need to “know” when it’s time for her to move on. I hope that will be a long time from now though.
I was wondering if you were having conversations like that too. I had the same ones when Aspen was sick. I wasn’t ready to let go and would do anything to make sure she could stay with me and still have a quality life. I wasn’t ready to let go.
It was the hardest thing I had to do when Aspen was sick. We had been through so many bouts that I thought maybe this time she would bounce back again. She didn’t. In a way, as much as I still miss her, it was a blessing. I was exhausted from caring for her. The constant ups and downs were emotionally exhausting too.
I don’t know where you are in this Roxanne, but if you are thinking it may be time to let go, it’s okay. It’s okay to let go.
Oh, Roxanne, this is heartbreaking. When my Angel was sick I had a conversation with her and told her it was ok to go, I would miss her forever, but I would be ok. Sometimes we just have to have these conversations….
I had tons of deep conversations with K when she was so sick. In our case, I knew for certain how it would end so our conversations always got around to that part – with all my promises to her about the end… In your case, I hope with all my heart that your expectations are exceeded by miles and miles.
There’s a sweet little picture book for children titled Love You Forever. It was a book I read to my daughter, then purchased for her as an adult. When I was a school psychologist, I read it to young children. It never failed to touch my heart.
Here’s how it starts:
A young woman holds her newborn son
And looks at him lovingly.
Softly she sings to him:
“I’ll love you forever
I’ll like you for always
As long as I’m living
My baby you’ll be.”
As the story goes, on the mothers sings the song again and again to her child as he grows and changes and leaves home – and then returns to sing the song of love to his mother in her elder years.
As I read your conversation with Lilly, I was thinking about this song. I understand about that forever love with the ones we have “raised” and nurtured and to whom we have given our whole hearts.
Oh Lilly, what a love your momma holds for you. And you for her.
‘Tis an honor to witness such love.
Hugs.
Thanks for sharing this. I do hope the conversations grow more optimistic after her Oct 10 visit, but I appreciate the poignancy of the conversation. You are both doing your best at keeping up with your feelings and thoughts. Love and light from Luna and me. xoxo
I remember having those conversations with my Lucy before we said goodbye. Non-dog lovers didn’t get that but I really think that communication helped us both. Hugs to you and Lilly.
So much love. Sending loving thoughts your way.
As my eyes fill with tears, I glance to the left to look at a photo of my beloved heart dog, Lucy. I know how you’re feeling. Hugs… big ones.
This made me cry. Love to both of you.
Oh, Roxanne. Such a heartbreaking, beautiful sentiment. I’m praying for you and hoping for the best for Lilly.
Breaks my heart … and I’m hoping for the best.
Wow…this post takes me back to April 4, 2011, when our American Bulldog, Layla, who had been diagnosed with canine dilated cardiomyopathy at 9 years,. We agreed that when her lungs began to fill up again, we’d take her for her final ride to the vet hospital. It was 3:30 a.m., on April 4, when we knew it was time. Her pain was the deciding factor for us. We learned so much from her. Still missing Layla. (http://52cupcakes.blogspot.com/2011/04/layla-would-have-loved-today.html)
Lilly will let you know when it’s time.
Even though I’ve never met you or Lilly, you are in my thoughts much of the time.
Linda
Lilly, there are MANY people who will love you and your family forever.
Very sweet! I’m sure Lilly knows she is loved and you are doing your best for her.
Sam
Sob.