It was just over two years ago that I lost my first born son. I lost him the very day I was supposed to have him. Delivery was hard on both of us, and even harder on him. Here I am two years later and just about to give birth to his little sister or brother. Loss is hard. Hard when it happens. Hard in the after math. Hard every single day.
Last week, our family lost our pet. He was family. He was not old, or sickly, or anything close to letting us know it was time to say good bye already. Just merely 4 years old, a 120 lb. Pit Bull Terrier who filled all of our hearts. I was already having a tough week. The reality of our son Calvin's loss was sneaking up on me again as we are approaching having a new baby. I came home from work with my husband letting me know that he was hit by a car. It has torn us all apart.
We know that getting though these things can happen. We know how hard this road is to travel. We already are so emotional just trying to bring our baby home this time. Lucky our dog was one of the things we had that helped us through Calvin.
I could write a book about everything Lucky was, but right now. I still am checking the yard for him to be running around. I still am looking in our daughter's bed for him to be snuggled up to her and dressed in some ridiculous outfit. I am still listening for the snoring on the couch, the barks to come inside, and the cute talk he did to ask for food or treats.
We are just going through the motions again. Time is too short. Once again I am reminded why I really need to get things together. Time is too short.
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