How Do You Prepare for Goodbye?

In January our 12 year old Golden Retriever Elsa, went in for an ultrasound. Her numbers were funky in a recent blood draw and something was just off. Lo and behold, the doctors found a large mass inside of her liver…and my heart sank. I felt somewhat hopeful though, as we discussed ‘plans’ and she was put on a liver medication. Her spirits actually seemed to improve, and every day the past couple of months when I’ve came home, she has hopped up wagging her tail and bringing me a toy… We actually began to think that maybe the mass was benign, and we would find out that she was okay!

The past few weeks though, I began to notice how hard it was for her to get up from a laying position, or when using the bathroom outside… and then she even began to collapse and fall all the way down. It was getting hard, and I didn’t understand why. This past Sunday the weather finally turned nice, I’m talking 60 degrees with sunshine nice, and we all wanted to go for a hike. I was hesitant to bring her…she just seemed a little off to me and pretty weak. I knew she had an ultrasound recheck the next day (Monday, March 2nd) so that brought me some peace of mind; and when she hopped up from our bedroom floor and came to the laundry room (where her leash is) I could tell she wanted to go. She has always known when we are leaving and I am certain she even knows when we are leaving to do things that SHE may be allowed to do too. I smiled and her and said, “Okay, Elsa, let’s go for a hike.”

We arrived at Creasy Mahan Nature Preserve in Goshen, KY (20 minutes away) and boy was it beautiful. Woods and open fields surrounded us, and Elsa had SUCH a pep in her step upon leaving the car. She trotted down the flat trails, and even got super excited about a giant stick. When she spotted some water, that was game on for her, so I let her wade slowly in and sure enough, she happily laid down, as she always has in open bodies of water, looking so so happy and in her element.

We did a casual mile loop, nothing too strenuous or high impact, but I knew as the night went on that something was drastically wrong with Elsa. She slept for a good long while, which was to be expected, but whenever it was time for her to get up and go outside to potty…she just couldn’t do it. In a tizzy I texted my mom, as I always do when I need help or prayer.. and she prayed me through the night. When 6 o’clock this morning came around, she hadn’t budged from where she started her night’s sleep. I tried to get her up to go outside and she collapsed. I managed to somehow get her to the back deck, (in the pouring rain) and she collapsed again. This time, with her head hung low and panting profusely. I ran inside to wake Asa and my poor husband came sprinting out in his boxer shorts (in the pouring rain!) to carry her to the grass….

The vet appointment this afternoon came and went… Before going I texted Dr. Thompson a video of her on our bedroom floor with the words, “This isn’t good, Matt…” “She looks tired,” he replied. “Yes..she is,” I said. My husband and the kids were there with me at the appointment and we waited quietly for the doctor doing the ultrasound to tell us what she saw. Sure enough, her cancer has spread—spleen, lymph nodes, more in the liver, and most likely to the chest and lungs. Her breathing is so labored and she has quite a bit of fluid in her stomach/abdomen. She went from 0-100 health wise in less than 24 hours and I just cannot believe it.

It happened so fast.

My family, Elsa and I went into a room and tears streamed down my face as I listened to our vet. I knew before we got there that this was going to be “it” for her. I could see it in her eyes, succumbing to the cancer, to the fatigue we never even knew she had (that perhaps she also didn’t realize was there?) “24-48 hours max is what I would give this,” he quietly said. I of course had the option to say goodbye then and there, but he knew that’s not me. He told us his schedule and we agreed that we wanted him to come to the house Tuesday evening….for her to be at home, like her brother Humphrey was (almost exactly a year ago…..) When grief hits and I am supposed to mourn, I go into overdrive instead. I clean the house and focus on other things, almost like a machine not knowing how to program off. I know when he walks through our front door that I am going to lose it……………it will be then, that it hits me.

It’ll all come crashing down that I am losing MY best friend. The girl who has been by my side for twelve long (and too short) years. I chose her from a gigantic litter of Goldens and the whole way home, she rode on my lap in silence. She went everywhere with me… last minute trips to Michigan, 6 hours in the car, never making a peep. She’s been THE best trail dog, sprinting ahead and always coming back. She has swam in so many lakes, and rivers, and ponds…and that is how I will always remember her—skimming the water, gracefully, eloquently, so beautifully. She stayed by Humphrey’s side the entire time he was passing… she never budged, not even once; and she was never the cuddly type with him. She knew he was leaving her…and now I just pray she can feel us do the same (and that Emma will help HER.)

(Oh Lord, please help Emma. We’ve never had only ONE dog. She has felt our sadness today and our high emotions…I feel so bad for her and so thankful at the same time. She is our Healer, and I am praying she can remain strong during this incredibly difficult, almost impossible, time.)

I wish I had more of a positive post to write, but this is my reality. ‘Here we go again,’ is pretty much how I am feeling. It just doesn’t feel right that we lost our beloved Humphrey one year ago, and now we are losing his sister too. The only thing giving me an ounce of hope is the fact that I DO believe that all dogs DO go to Heaven, and that Humphrey will be the FIRST one greeting her at the gates. I am positive they will do warp mode together, running and sprinting and tumbling until they’re ready for a nap at our family’s future Heavenly home. I think it will have a large front porch, where Humphrey can sun bathe (his happy place) and there will be a crystal clear lake real close by for Elsa to swim in all day if she wants.

I may not feel ready, but Elsa girl I think you are. You have given us the MOST incredible and blessed twelve years with you…never once doing ANYTHING wrong. It is because of you that I will forever have a Golden Retriever, and I thank you for loving my second one… our Emma Rose. My how she loves and adores you too. Thank you for your patience, grace, gentle spirit, and love. All of these years…I have felt SO loved by YOU.

Update: Elsa passed on her own Tuesday morning March 3rd, some time between 6:30 and 7am. I had kissed her at 6:30 and noticed her breathing had slowed tremendously. I had a feeling it was time. Within a half hour, she was gone. I am thankful the Lord took her quietly and I didn’t have to make that decision for her. Our sweet, wonderful Elsa. I pray you felt how loved you are.

Below is a slideshow of recent pictures of our Elsa Girl…mostly from October through current. Thank you for being with us on this journey.

In a Hurting World

My door bell rang and I opened it to three wonderful little boys staring up at me. One was a sweet kiddo who I haven't seen in two years, since he moved to another part of town. The other two are brothers who live just two houses down.

"My brother got killed yesterday," one said.

Cars sped by, my own children were inside begging for snacks, our gigantic Lab burst out the door, and six pained eyes waited for my response.

Loss is prevalent, and I know this first hand. I work at a children psychiatric facility where I teach lots of broken youth, all whom have incredibly traumatic backgrounds. But nothing could have prepared me for this.

Two days before this, my husband and I heard the loud blare of sirens flying down our street. All the first responders couldn't get to where they were going fast enough--which was to the location where a teenage boy had just been shot and killed. We heard the tears coming from our sidewalks, middle school-aged children crying and loudly mourning. Later that night we quietly entered our son's room and sat on his floor; we didn't even know yet what had happened or who it involved, we just knew something was terribly wrong. In the morning when we learned of the age and incident, our hearts just sank.

The very next day while I was at work, text message alerts came to our phones that there had been a shooting in our neighborhood: One was dead, the other in critical condition. In the middle of broad daylight, two young men shot each other; the one killed was the half-brother to my little neighbor boys.

What do you DO when young hearts ring your doorbell and bear such heart wrenching news?

Amongst the three children outside my door, my own kids inside, and my husband who wasn't yet on his way home from work--I needed to be packing for Tennessee, where I was supposed to be headed very soon; my world froze for a moment and I looked in to the eyes before me. "I am so sorry, Guys," I quietly said. "I love you all SO much, please be safe this weekend." I gave them all giant hugs and closed the door, where my world, for the most part, would be un-phased.

But what about theirs?

The whole weekend I spent out of state, my heart constantly thought about these families. I prayed often, and I thanked God for keeping my own family safe amidst the crime. I drove home 48-hours later and shortly before I got off the exit for our house my phone rang. My husband said the Vigil was happening at the park and that our road was blocked off--"Let me know when you're close and I'll ask the police to let you through," he said. When I pulled up to the house, my eyes shifted to the park. I saw the neighborhood children, their sad and somber faces, and my husband kneeling beside our little ones trying to keep them quiet. How do you explain to them what was going on? How much is too much for them to know? Later that evening we walked in our bare feet to their house, carrying a vase full of fresh flowers. Flowers? I asked myself. Is flowers a terribly insensitive idea? I just wanted them to know how much I love them. 

The days continued to pass by, the boys always waved whenever they saw me. I was often greeted with warm hugs when I would pull up to the house or when they got home from school. We ordered them a pizza one night; a house full of kiddos and two hurting parents, I just wanted to be able to do something--anything.

Our two kids really didn't have a clue what was going on and at that point I was grateful. Explaining guns and violence to a three and four-year old just didn't seem pertitent. They probably thought we were just hanging out with friends at the Vigil and with the flowers, they assumed we were being nice neighbors. But flash forward a few months later, when my world was shaken even more... 

Trolling Facebook mindlessly one evening, my eyes did a double take at someone's post. It was the gal we actually purchased this home from; she had shared a blog post and some sweet words of her own about a woman from this neighborhood that had passed away a few days prior. I clicked on the blog post and slowly read paragraph after paragraph, not even knowing yet that I actually knew her. I exited the link and decided to click on the profile of the woman who had passed away and my eyes just flooded with tears. I let out a horrified gasp and dropped the phone. Honest to God, I felt like I was in shock. I wasn't close friends of the woman, but I had met her several times at the park while at the playground with my kids. She was with her six kids, she had a friend with her, and both were talking and chatting so carefree amongst all the chaos. My kids played with hers--pretend kitchen is what they were doing, making dirt pies and desserts from underneath the slides. I introduced myself and went home to tell my husband all about her. My mom too, on the phone, I bragged about this woman. "Oh she'll be a great contact for you to get to know when you take time off with the kids," she said. 

And now she's gone.

I don't know many details, except that she passed in her sleep. She has six children, three whom are adopted, and she homeschooled all of them. It was clear when I met her that she was a Believer, and while I should be assured that she is resting now with her Savior, I'm just not. At all.  

I've prayed for her family daily, often multiple times a day. I sobbed uncontrollably after realizing who she was and thinking about how young, how much more life here on Earth she 'should have had.' It's not my place, right? To think something like that. None of us know the hour or the day of which we'll be called Home to our Creator, but six sweet children and a husband woke to their wonderful mom and wife, gone. Thinking about it honestly kind of haunts me, I have done the "what if" in my mind; what would my kids do? How would my husband react? Who would he call first? WHY would Jesus allow this to happen? I walked through the park with my kids last week and we passed her house. The dog was barking in the backyard and tears again immediately flooded my eyes. 

I was alone with the kids and quietly asked, "Hey, Guys. Mama wants to pray. Is that okay? I just want to pray for the family who lives in that house." My 4-year old immediately said, "Why, Mom? Are you afraid they're going to die?" How he was that intuitive or immediately came to that concern is beyond me? But he continued to ask over and over and I felt like I was going to snap. I felt like I would be lying if I beat around the bush and avoided the question, so I answered honestly. "You know what, Buddy...? There are a lot of kids who live there and their mommy actually did die." Of course this brought a series of questions and a little bit of concern from my young son who cannot grasp the concept of death or his mommy no longer being here. And once again, my heart just broke. My son can't process it or understand, so how are her children doing? 

The world is still spinning around and around, construction workers still working, basketball players playing ball on the courts, little kids riding their bikes... but a household is without their mother. A husband without his wife. 

And the same for my neighbors... the world has continued to survive without their sweet boy; homework and school and sports and family dinners. But a giant piece of their heart is still missing. And what do we do about that?

Friends, I'm just immensely shaken. There is so much pain and hurt and suffering in this world. There are babies without their parents and parents without their babies. I don't have a solid answer on how to fix it and I know it's not my job to. But will you just pray with me? For the lives and hearts of Gods' children who all just need HIM to show up for them? To be their shoulder, their voice, their comfort, their song. It's times like this that I often begin to doubt the goodness of my Father, but I am fighting hard to hear Him through the tears. And the days for these families will be so much brighter if we can be in this together. Stand with me, pray with me, and remember that everyone, everywhere, is dealing with some hardship, so let's just LOVE.