It’s been ten days since we said goodbye to our bestest buddy. Our big, loud, handsome boy.
He loved blankets. The orange one behind him? We wrapped him in it when he passed and had it cremated with him. The purple one? It’s on my lap right now.
I have Binky’s collar in my pocket. I’ve thought about making it smaller and wearing it as a bracelet. When Wingnut had multiple surgeries ten years ago and we didn’t know if he’d survive? I wore his collar around my wrist then for a few days.
I haven’t done that this time because I don’t want to change the collar’s size. I know, it’s ridiculous. Or should be.
It shouldn’t matter. Resizing the collar won’t suddenly make me forget how big he was. Or how perfect. Or how much I loved him. But I still can’t do it. Binky used to lie on top of me or next to me when I meditated, and I regularly hold his collar when I try to meditatie now. It doesn’t always work like it used to. Though Abbie still enjoys meditation time.
We’ve settled into this new normal. It’s not a normal we wanted. But I wake up and don’t immediately look for him. Until I walk by the couch and see a small, light-colored pillow and my brain thinks, “Binky!” Until I realize it’s not him.
Grief is hard. I would talk about Binky all day, every day if I could. I’d tell every person I met about him. That’s part of the reason I wanted to start this site. Because even though it makes me sad, remembering him also brings me comfort.
I’ve talked to a handful of friends this week who’ve had members of their family as special as Binky pass on. That’s helped too. Knowing that there are others who feel about their companions as strongly as I felt/feel about Binky.
I’ll have more stories over the next few days, but for right now…I just wanted to honor my boy.