It’s been 17 days since the day you passed away. And half the time, I’m still not completely convinced that I won’t see you again.
It’s ironic really. I’m often cynical about a lot of things, but even when you were starting to get weaker on your last days, somehow I believed deep down that you’ll survive it all. Maybe because that was easier for me. It was easier to convince myself that I will always have you. Remember what I used to always whisper to you? “You won’t leave me right? You know I can’t lose you.” And I’ve always believed you will never.
When someone dies of illness, people would often say that it’s better that way, because then he won’t be in pain anymore. In my heart, I know I wouldn’t have wanted you to stay if you were in so much suffering. I could accept that you had to go. But I wish you would’ve waited a bit longer.
I remember when you were about a year old, and your fur was so long they wanted to get it trimmed. Your grooming station was closed and so we had to take you elsewhere. I recall that I felt uneasy leaving you then. And I realized why when we returned an hour after and found you in a leash, half bald. I will never forget the way you looked, and the way you cried when you saw us. That was one of the rare moments when I felt that I really wanted to physically hurt someone. I felt so bad that you had to go through something like that. I cannot imagine how scared you must have been.
And that’s what I kept on remembering on the day you passed away. Cause you were in that hospital, in the presence of people you didn’t know, possibly you were alone, even. I get this dizzying feeling, thinking how much of agonizing pain you have been in, and how terrified and alone you must have felt. You didn’t deserve all that. You didn’t have to die alone. And everyday I wish there was something more we could have done for you. Cause now I keep on thinking, during your last moments, did you still know you were, and will always be so much loved? Or did you feel abandoned? God, I hope not.
Saying that it broke my heart when you died is an understatement. I wasn’t ready. But I guess nothing can really prepare anyone for such misfortune. Most people might find my grief exaggerated. But even those who empathize may never fully understand how much I lost. You are my constant love, and when you were given to me, you saved me in a lot of different ways. And like I’ve said, deep down I’ve always believed I’ll always have you around.
I dared and opened that box you were in before we said our final goodbye. They say it’s better to remember someone happy and not in pain. But I wanted to see you like that. I didn’t want to fool myself and make a selfish assumption that you were happy on your last moments. I wanted to get a glimpse of how much you suffered. I wanted you to have someone to feel that pain with you, even though I know it was too late and won’t change a thing. Before, everytime I leave you to get your haircut or see the vet, I always used to tell you that I’d come back soon. I will be forever sorry that I failed you when you most needed me. I so hope that on those last few moments, that you did not spend your last hours, minutes, seconds waiting for someone to come back for you. I hope that you found your peace somehow, and knew it in your heart that I would have come back. I did come back, love, I came back for you, but it was too late. If I can only change things, I hope you know I would have made another choice.
My sensitive, often angsty, hot-tempered, sweet baby boy. I miss you so much. I want to cry over and over whenever I think that you’re gone forever and I won’t see you and get to hug you ever again. I crazily try and hold on to everything that I still have about you. But soon I know that your scent will completely fade from my room, and one day I won’t find any of your fallen white fur from my clothes and pillow. And when that happens I wonder how much would I still remember. Because honestly, I fear that even my memory would one day fade, and I don’t want that to happen ever.
You deserve so much more, so much better. I used to imagine that you would grow really old, and when the time comes that your old age takes its toll, that you will pass away peacefully and happily after eating your favorite bacon and “pandesal”. Now that you’re gone, you make me want to believe in heaven. Because I cannot accept that that was the end for you. I want you to be in a place where you can continue to live and be happy and well. And if heaven is real and you are indeed in a happier place now, I would again ask you what I’ve always been asking you since the day you left. Please, please give me a sign, anything, to make me feel and know for sure that you are well and not in pain anymore. If I know for a fact that you are happy, then I will willingly let you go.
I pray that you know how much I love you and how I terribly miss you. I am so sorry. You will be my forever baby, my constant love. The sweetest, handsomest dog I will ever know. It’s funny isn’t it, I was trying to look for sunshine, but when you left, it felt that my ray of light has been taken away, and God knows how I can have that back.
I love you.
I love you.
Happy 5th Birthday my Cola.