A New Normal

006It’s a damp dark, blustery, fall day here in the Pacific Northwest. I had an early morning appointment at the dentist then a consultation with a tax professional. There are many details to consider as we prepare for retirement and returning to Canada.

Maya is curled up in her little bed beside my desk. She, and we, are still adjusting to life without Chelsea.

The void left by the loss of that little three pound dog is vast. I think of her first thing every morning as I’m brushing my teeth. I miss her pushing open the bathroom door and running through to the walk-in closet to bark at Gerry to hurry up as he gets dressed and ready to take the girls outside.

I miss her every evening as I scoop out half of the container of homemade dog food into a single dish for Maya’s supper. I made a fresh batch of dog food this week–the first batch since she’s been gone. I imagined her sitting by the counter impatiently waiting for her dish to be filled like she usually did.

Maya’s been getting extra attention these past couple of weeks–she’s even gone to work with Gerry a few times. She’s never been alone before now and being at home alone during the day is something new for her. We see subtle changes in her behaviour since Chelsea’s been gone–there’s no doubt she feels the loss too.

Incredibly, I’ve seen her do some things that only Chelsea used to do, it’s almost like Chelsea is still here somehow. She’s not, I know, but when Maya does a little spin around when I’m getting ready to take her outside it’s almost like she is.

It’s a comfort but it breaks my heart at the same time.

We’re in a time of transition just now. Our house is on the market which means it’s got to be kept pristine at all times. The other night Gerry asked me how I like living in our sterile house. It’s not, sterile that is, but it’s certainly neat and tidy.

I came upon a quote from C.S. Lewis this week and it resonated with me: “There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”

It’s been a difficult couple of weeks and I’m thankful for the faith I have that there are, most certainly, better things to come.

signature-fonts

I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
8 comments
  1. Oh Linda! By heart is breaking for you! “This Too Shall Pass”. I know this, and likely you do too. But in the meantime the pain is real, the void is vast, and life just does not seem the same.
    Awesome to know that you will be coming back home to Canada! When is the moving date? Where will home be? I have missed so much during the past months without being on Facebook!
    Sure would appreciate an email to get me up to date!
    Take care girl. I think of you soooo often!

    1. Check your email, sister! <3

  2. Isn’t it amazing how attached we become to those sweet furry creatures who live with us for awhile? I’ll never forget the night we had to put our marmalade tabby Flynn down. He had been my constant companion through multiple back surgeries, and Flynn knew when I was hurting and needed warmth along my back and legs. I still imagine seeing him in certain places around the house. He’s been gone from us for 15 years now. Like one of our children.

    And also the transition of moving back to Canada, leaving friends made nearby and at work, your yard and garden, a home you’ve grown accustomed to. But you’ll be going nearer some very lovely folks with whom you’ll get to spend so much more time; you’ll be going home.

    You are among the blessed to have the faith to see you through these transitions. I’ll be keeping you in my prayers as the week roll by.

    Blessings,
    Sherrey

    1. “Like one of our children”. Exactly.

      And yes, I do feel abundantly blessed to have faith.

      Hugs,
      Linda

  3. Dear Linda, that quote by Lewis so resonates within me. You are getting ready to move back to Canada. Four and a half years ago I moved back to Missouri, after being gone for fifty-five years. The transition has been hard. Most change, I think, is hard. Whether we’re talking about a move or about the loss of a beloved fur person. Lewis’ words are filled with hope and expectation. And that’s where I finally find myself in life. There’s so much to be grateful amidst the sorrow of living. Please continue to be gracious to yourself as you keep the house “sterile” and as you remember Chelsea and her love for you. Peace.

    1. I’m glad that the Lewis’ quote spoke to you as well, Dee. Hope, faith, love, these are the important things, aren’t they?

  4. Transitions are always tough. And your is especially so since you now have to grieve the loss of your dear pet. But I agree with C.S.Lewis. Thinking of you.

    1. Thanks for stopping by, Christine. We’ve both had some transitions to deal with, haven’t we?

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.