The guilt stage

It was four weeks from today that Walter crossed the rainbow bridge. It still seems like it happened yesterday, and yet, in some ways, I can feel some of the healing that comes with time.

Walter greeting me first thing in the morning

I can sometimes speak about Walter with a smile. I can inhale. I sometimes don't cry. I'm getting a little used to not searching for him the moment I wake up and finding his face, which usually was followed by a quick, or not so quick, cuddle. Some unproductive thoughts have also crept in. I'm working on kicking them out. Thoughts about why didn't I wake up earlier every day so that we had more time to play before I went to work. Why didn't I cherish and remember every last good time - our last walk to Central Park, the last time he gave me his paw in exchange for his breakfast, the last time we played tug.

This past weekend, I asked my mother if she thought Walter had a happy life. I know he did. I know it. But I suddenly needed validation. I think I'm mourning the time we no longer have. I can't make up for anything. I can't fix or improve anything. It's all in the past. I took a thousand photos of Walter and I can't stop thinking there will never be another one.

I have tried to commit to thinking about the lessons this moment is giving me, and this aspect of grief is not rocket science. It's a humbling and painful reminder to work on being in the moment, appreciating the real priorities, and reminding myself that as I do things, no matter how small, it may be the last time - so cherish them. And do them.

I came across this poem by Emanuele Grandi. It found me more than I found it. I can't fact check it to the standards I would prefer to, so please accept my apologies if any wording is off or omitted.

"If you are afraid of having given me few caresses, you should know that I have not forgotten even one.

If you regret having scolded me even once, you should know that I don't even remember it.

If you think you've left me alone for too long, you should know that I've always been waiting for you.

If you are afraid of having spent little time with me, you should know that I, even that little, have enjoyed every moment.

If you think you've played little with me, you should know that I've never counted the times you threw the ball at me.

If you think I've forgotten about your perfume, you should know that even now I'm smelling it in the wind.

If you wanted to be reborn in another life, you should know that I would like to be your puppy in that one too.

If you are convinced that you have some flaws, you should know that for me you have been the perfect one.

If you believe that love can have an end, you should know that in my heart the place of love is infinite.

If you think you have regrets about me, you should know that I would not change a single second of the life I have spent with you.

If you think I no longer hear your voice when you call me, just entrust the sunset breeze with the task of bringing me your words.

If you think I can forget your face, you should know that I wanted to live alone to enjoy your look.

If you think I could have loved someone more than you, you should know that I have loved you more than myself.

If you think I would like a soft sofa, know that with you I would also have slept on the stones.

If you think I wanted more than you gave me, you should know that I've always felt

like the happiest puppy in the world.

If you have ever felt alone, you should know that I have never left my place next to you.

If you think my life has been short, you should know that I wouldn't have wanted to live a minute longer if I hadn't spent it by your side.

If you are afraid that I am no longer near you, know that as soon as you close your eyes I will fall asleep next to you.

If you think you have not made the right decision, you should know that I have always trusted you.

Always.