Rascal

My mother held my shoulder as I looked over at the small jar of ashes simply labeled ‘RASCAL’. Today I grieve. A day of grief is expected after such an event. Expected, but never planned. When death happens you assume it will hit you right away, but it’s not that simple. It comes in layers, waves of emotion layering on throughout the coming days. Initially its shock, the inability to comprehend. Then  the sadness, followed by fear, followed by anger and so on. And yet, despite knowing all this, it still hurts. No amount of preparation stops that. No matter how long you wait, the memory stays open like a wound. Hurting.

This was all I could do for Rascal now. Hurt. Keeping the pain of his death alive in my mind. As though its my duty to feel for him. Yet, all I can feel is blue. With all the memories of our time together as just a boy and his dog, playing, learning, growing and experiencing the world one step at a time. These are all just that, memories. A time in the past that cannot be brought back no matter how hard I cry.

Mother turned to me and said “Its okay, he’s in heaven now” as though it would somehow change my feelings . I try to hold back my tears, but they come out like fountains. A waterfall of emotion running from my face to the ground and disappearing like the life of my friend.