Beginnings, Middles, and Endings
Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s what’s in the middle that counts. So when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will. — Hope Floats
Yesterday was a mish-mash of all the feelings; super highs and then lows.
Reagan
I’ll never forget the first day I met Reagan. Ryan and I arrived at the house to “meet” her. She was the biggest puppy I had ever seen. At 6 months, she was already bigger than most full-grown dogs.
I sat on the couch, and she laid on me, pawing me with those huge white paws. We fell in love with her immediately, but because we didn’t want to make her a show dog, didn’t know if the owners would still be willing to let us have her.
You know how that story ends, obviously. As long as we had her fixed and she didn’t have puppies, they all agreed Ryan and I would be great for her.
Her — Rhea — that was her original name. We changed it to Reagan. Well, Ryan did. (I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I wanted it to be Rihanna.)
Danes are huge, lovable dogs. They have quirky personalities, and are accurately described as Gentle Giants.
At over 11 years old, Reagan had lived a very long Great Dane life. Average expectancy for the breed is 6–8 years old.
And yesterday we made the hard decision to finally let her rest in peace. Her quality of life had suffered, and though she loved us (mostly Ryan), it wasn’t fair to her anymore.
Ryan and I reflected on the fact that she was our wedding gift for each other; Ryan also reflected that for nearly 12 years he has never gone on a walk without her.
For me, saying good-bye was bending down to let her sniff my face one last time. When her hips gave out and she was on the ground, I rubbed her big, beautiful paws for the last time. And then I gave her a hug, went in the house, and watched as she and Ryan walked away.
Ryan got her a taco from Taco Bell then took her on a final walk to the vet. She was tired by the time they got there, and I know how hard it was for Ryan during those final minutes. I know because I did it with Fiona, and I couldn’t get out of bed until the next day.
Dogs are not like family; they are family. Maybe not to and for everyone, but definitely for us. I always want them, multiples, in the house and running around. That brings me so much joy!
But the endings — the endings are so tough.
Endings
With the loss of Reagan yesterday, I was triggered and heartache set in.
It wasn’t only the ending of Reagan’s life yesterday, but also the ending of my time with DELIGHTED BY Desserts.
It’s definitely been a year of sad endings, and endings are so damn hard.
So I sat with endings last night. Sitting with them, feeling the pain, is not easy. But I’ve learned this past year that without acknowledging pain and sadness in the same ways as joy and happiness, it’s hard to truly move forward.
I’m good at stuffing; not good at sitting.
I know that there are always days ahead filled with the scare (and excitement!) of beginnings. And I also know how great the everyday, mundane “middles” are because I live them on a daily basis.
But endings take a lot out of me — a lot out of all of us.
To be present here and to find grace and gratitude is to truly be able to move on. We can and will still carry with us those hard, sad endings, but embracing the present heartache now helps down the road in finding only smiles when reflecting on them.
Because super hard endings usually indicate the very best things that ever happened for us.
