#the100dayproject

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I started seeing the 100 day project ramping up on my Instagram feed on April 1st.  That was also the day I received the diagnosis for my twelve year old Shepherd mix.  There’s a tumor on her spleen.  It ruptured and is bleeding out into her abdomen.  The tumor already spread to her lungs.  There’s nothing we can do.

When I saw that this project was starting again, I wanted to participate.  But I couldn’t imagine having the energy or the heart to do anything creative.  At the same time, I was scrolling endlessly through pinterest, reading quotes and poems about grief and pet loss.  Misery loves company right?  But really, don’t we all feel comforted when we listen to sad love songs when we’re going through a heart break?  I believe the same logic applies here.

As I was trying to shove down some sustenance at the dinner table, it occurred to me that I can practice hand lettering while writing out quotes that resonate and soothe me.  So this is my 100 day project. #100daysofhandletteringgrief

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I don’t know how to tell this story.  I’m a scrapbooker and I like to blog about our home improvement projects.  I don’t spend a lot of time on documenting the hard stuff.  But I know that’s part of our story.  I guess that’s why reading about grief and pet loss can be soothing – it helps express what I can’t seem to put into words.  But I will try because I truly believe it will help.

Sugarbear has been with me since she was four months old.  She’s been here with Logan his entire our life.  She’s our baby girl.  She has the sweetest temperament and put up with toddlers’ ears and tail tugging.  She puts Logan to bed every night.  Not only are we heartbroken, we can’t imagine how our three year old will cope with losing his best friend, his family.

KT and I decided to be honest with him.  We told him that she is really sick and that she will die.  We told him that we are so sad and that it is okay for him to be sad too.  We think he, sort of, understands but he’s scared.  Like his mama, forever the can-do optimist, he believes that she will get better if he keeps telling her so. But we also see that sometimes when the reality or doubt seeps in, he can’t seem to face her and keeps a wide berth of her.  My heart breaks for him.  For us.

I’ve been through this grief one too many times already.  We’re doing the best we can.  For her.  For him.  For us.  We’re trying to survive.  Denial had always felt worse to me because every morning, the reality always hits hard and the rest of the day is exhausted on denying what cannot be changed.  I’ve found some comfort in facing this and doing everything we can to spend just a little bit more time with her and making sure she’s comfortable.  We are going to get through this because, whether we face it or fight it, the only way is through.

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