Will my anticipation reduce the impact of this inevitable loss, or does it only bring pain to my gaze where love should've been instead?
Death
Death is just a natural part of the life cycle, something we all must go through, so is grief. I thought about your passing the moment we brought you home, I knew even as a kid that I would outlive you, that I would spend the rest of my life love you through the pain of grief, but still we brought you back home, and still I love you the same.
You came when I was 11, I remember googling "Shih Tzu's lifespan" to calculate how old I'd be when you eventually pass, I remember thinking how soon it feels, hoping maybe I will be grown up enough to know how to deal with grief by then. Afraid to lose my best friend, I did all I could to "preserve" you, I took endless pictures and videos of you, which were all gone in the end due to an error in the phone. I remember as a baby you had infinite energy, you were jumping up and down the small house of ours, up and down the couch, the bed, and during my attempt to calm you down you scratched me by accident trying to escape my hugs, it left a tiny scar, I remember thinking naively "now I have something to remember you of when you go." The scar was gone not long after, I still remember feeling sad that I failed to preserve you, and from the realization that this too is temporary.
Age
Soon you start to grow old, your colour fades and you start to slow, and the thought of you leaving consumes me. Your kidney aged first, it's harder for you to process oily food and so we went on a strict diet to protect your health. Watching you give up your favourite hobby was painful, the guilt I felt was enormous because who am I to decide for you, to selfishly trade your favourite food with a few more months with me, but I did it convinced that I could save you from your eventual death, or at least slow it down.
I felt like I was losing you, every hospital visits, every needles you take, every time I hide pills in your food, every time you refused the bland food. You were slipping away from me. The harder I tried to save you the faster it felt to lose you, the doctor had to convince me in the end that I was doing the right thing, that I would lose you even more if I didn't at least try. I was torn between holding you on and letting you go, because it pains me more to see you suffer than to lose you completely.
But we kept fighting.
You became clingy, maybe you need soothing from all the pain of needles and the IV drips, maybe you knew too that we were about to part. You sleep closer and closer to me every night, until we were tangled in embrace, inseparable. It felt like you were saying you could still fight, you still want to stay, even if it's just a little longer.
Life
Nature wins in the end. The last few days you were barely moving, refusing food and water. There were signs, I know from frantic googling and from mom's kind words trying to prepare me for the worst. Couldn't sleep you were barking all night long, suddenly full of energy despite having little to no food. Were you bargaining with death for a few more days?
The last few minutes you suddenly moved, struggling to lift your head you tried to find me by scent, I was home for two days straight taking a break from work because I somehow knew, I was just next to you and you found my arm, with your last strength you rest your chin on me, the way you always do. Your warmth left just a few minutes after.
Anticipatory Grief
I had the idea for this painting when my dog's health start to deteriorate, but I refuse to paint it like how I refused to face the reality of his old age. I only started to paint after, when I was dealing with the grief of his passing, it's the only way I know to process my feelings.
Grief is only love with nowhere to go, I miss you all the time Jiggy, please say hi to the stars for me.
