One Year Without You
I couldn't bring myself to write on Sushi's first death anniversary. I couldn't re-live the day when I truly experienced grief for the first time. I am posting the words of my partner who finally had the courage to pen her thoughts. This was her message:
On this same day last year, I lost the love of my life, Sushi. No words can express the pain I felt as I was giving her her breakfast, her little paw gently pushed my hand away, looked at me and I saw the saddest eyes that said “Mommy, I am done.” I said, “I know Sushi. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
I phoned the vet and made the call I was dreading the most. Our entire house was filled with sorrow and fear. Everyone (including her 3 babies) in the house knew what we were facing that day. We called our families and friends, and all those who loved her, so they too could say their final goodbyes. Sushi, even though she was too weak to move, managed to walk into every room in the house as if she was saying goodbye to everyone and everything, even to her favorite bed. She walked into the room where her 3 babies were napping and looked at them as if she was telling herself “They’re all gonna be okay.” She then walked up to us one by one and let us pet her and kiss her and tell her how much we loved her. She even sneaked into the bathroom for a final visit (she loved barging in whenever I was in there).
I remember clearly how i could not take a bite of my breakfast that day, but for Sushi, we all sat down and gave her our last breakfast moment together. She always loved to be on the table while we eat. She was our breakfast buddy. We were inseparable.
On our way to the vets, we sang her her favorite songs, while I held the oxygen mask on her face and assured her that she is going to be free from pain soon. The “i love yous” were never ending. She held on until we got there, and I told her about the very peaceful sleep that she is about to take. I whispered to her that everybody will be okay and that she can go. I told her i will love her forever and I promised to take care of her kids like how I took care of her.
The sedation kicked in so fast, and as they gave the final shot, I held her tight and said my last “I love you so much, Sushi.” And there, her fragile little heart finally stopped. My world had crashed. I never even knew that kind of pain existed.
A year had passed and Is till feel that sharp pain piercing through my heart. I still recall everything so clearly. We miss you every single day, Sushi. You had so much love for all of us and I am forever grateful for the 17 years we had together. If I could, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat, but for now I will try to take comfort in knowing that you are happy where you are and that we now have a little angel watching over us all.
Happy 1st year in heaven, my baby. Mommy loves you and will forever do.
