Anxiety is not something I would say I have ever really suffered with. Yesterday, though, was a different story. Mike had left on Friday to go to San Diego to pick up JT. The plan was for him to get on a plane Saturday night in LA to head home. In the meantime, he got to hang out with the awesome Gomez family (I miss you guys!!!!) and even stopped in to visit my parents for a little bit.
He got to LA and all checked into their flight. They were flying standby, which meant we knew there was a chance they wouldn't get on that flight. The short version of this long draw out story is that they didn't make that flight. They didn't get on a flight until 6am the next day and I was finally able to pick then up at 530 our time Sunday evening! I went into the terminal and as soon as JT recognized me he came running with his arms out for a great big hug. That felt so good! I mean, I knew he would miss his dad, but I wasn't sure how he'd feel about not seeing me for so long. I scooped him up and squeezed him... I think I missed him more than I thought I would too. It was great to have him there in my arms! He immediately asked for Chase and Grace. I saw that coming ;)
Then I got to get my arms around Mike. Two days was too long. I know many of you military spouses are shaking your heads at me. Shake away! I've been there, done that. The difference is when I was married to the military, I wasn't married to someone I really missed when he was gone. Anytime my ex left for any amount of time, I was always just wondering who he was with instead if me. That thought never crossed my mind with Mike. Not having him home with me was physically taxing on me. Even through deployments, I never felt that way. I felt sick to my stomach the longer he was gone. It was awful. I'm just happy that it's over now and he is back home.
We finally got home at around 8:15. It was chaos for a little while as the kids all reunited. We let them go wild for about an hour but then it was time for bed.
Once all the activity settled down and there was no more anxiety, the feeling I was avoiding started to set in.
Sadness. Sorrow. Remorse. Agony. Pain. Heartache.
All of the above.
I keep photos of Harley around the house still. There's even one right on the fridge. The memory of him is painful, but I am glad I have it. That pain reminds me that at one point in my life, before Mike, I had someone who loved me more than he loved himself.
It's said that dogs have a way of finding the people who need them. That they teach us about love when they come into our lives, and they teach us about loss when they leave. Harley did all of that and more. He came into my life at the precise moment that I needed him most. When he left, it forced me to find the strength to begin to make change in my life. I knew I deserved better because it's what Harley had given me. I wish he could have met Moose. He would have adored him.
It's not fair to our dogs now. When I look at them, I don't feel the same way I did with Harley. I don't have that bond with them. Mike says it's because I don't need them like I needed Harley. That I haven't allowed them in as close. Maybe I am trying to keep that place in my heart just for him? No dog will ever be able to replace him. Maybe I am afraid that getting close to another dog will cause his memory to fade. I'd rather have that painful place in my heart where his memory resides than to forget. He is worth remembering.
The days have turned to months. Now it's been two years since I last ran my fingers over those floppy ears. Two years since my tears soaked into that giant snout of his. Two years since he left this world and a gaping hole in my heart. I just miss him.
I hope he knows that. I hope he knows I love him just as intensely as he loved me.
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