Today is a shit day. It shouldn’t be. It should be a celebration of Ariella turning 14. It used to be the happiest day. Because it is the day I became a mom for the first, and only, time. It’s hard to believe that I could be the parent of a 14 year old, of a high schooler. I see everyone else with their perfect children and perfect families celebrating the new school year, being another year older, celebrating all the milestones. And I am left with remembering Ariella at her last birthday, her 11th birthday. And it’s shit. There is a world of difference between 11 and 14 so I honestly cannot begin to imagine what she would want to do to celebrate, what she would want as a gift, what she would wear. I knew her so well and now I don’t know what she would be like at 14. The only thing I do know is that if they were both here, we would have some kind of celebration together with my father. His birthday is tomorrow and he loved his birthday and he loved (almost) sharing it with Ariella. So tomorrow is a shit day too.
On top of all of this Sherman, my dog, the reason I got up in the morning in the months after Ariella died, the reason I set foot outside, the one who came to our home with a big giant bear and tons of unconditional love to give, is not doing well at all. There is a very strong possibility that we will lose Sherman and it is devastating. When we get pets we expect to outlive them. But we don’t expect to lose them at just 4 years old after only having them for just over 2 years (unless you are a saint and purposely adopt older or sick pets).
I am tired of being shit on by the universe. You’d think after suffering the worst loss a parent can experience you would get a free ride the rest of your life. But of course the universe doesn’t work that way. So here we are. Dad died in February 2016 (we of course expect our parents to die before us but he died younger than he should have), Ariella diagnosed with cancer January/February 2017, relapsed 2018, died 2019. Unable to become parents again despite exploring many avenues for parenthood for two years now. And now facing the loss of our dog who helped us through so much of the initial pain. What. The. Fuck?!
I am really at a loss as to how to even deal with all of this right now. Today (as many days) I threw on my running shoes and did some running. Back on the subject of shoes, my running shoes have carried me many, many miles and are better than any therapist. I just wish they could whisk me away from this life and into a better one. One without all of this pain and heartache. One without this black cloud hanging over me.