It's real now.

Last week we had to put our Maggie down.  It was a really hard thing to do but, in the end, the right thing to do.  It's been an important lesson for the kids, basically about the stages of grief.  It has also given Jack some insight into how it was for me after Jason died.  The main thing that Jack has come to me to talk about is the different stages of grief and why his mind tries to convince him that she's only at the vet.  To help him better understand why he does that I told him about the time right after Jason died.

The events that happened between the Wednesday night that he died and the Sunday of the funeral are kind of foggy.  I remember going to the funeral home to pick out the site and arrange for the funeral.  I remember the day of the funeral waking up to "thunder" and panicking until I realized that they had imploded Cowboy Stadium.  I sort of remember the memorial service, all of the people, and the kids' reaction to riding in a limo.  But that's it.

The week after the funeral I spent with the kids eating lunch at school with them and cleaning house, because I couldn't do anything in regards to the estate because I didn't have the death certificate.  I decided to go back to work the following week because I felt useless at home.  But my brain had, in an act of self preservation I guess, convinced me that Jason was at the hospital.  That he was there but I couldn't talk to him because he didn't have his phone and he was in isolation and couldn't receive visitors (that had really happened at certain points of his hospitalization).  When the emotions would try to bog me down and make me non-functioning, I'd tell myself, "He's there at the hospital.  You just can't talk to him." 

I'd been at work for about three days, when I received in the mail the death certificate.  I knew the envelope, but didn't open it.  The next day at work was stressful, mainly because I'd been out for a week and the state test was coming up.  I remember I was reviewing with students a certain concept and I broke down crying.  Why?  Because it had become real.  I could no longer pretend that Jason was at the hospital.  He was gone, and never coming back.

Jack experienced that with Maggie.  After the inital day when we put down Maggie, Jack was somewhat calm.  He admitted that sometimes he imagined that Maggie was still at the vet, and couldn't come home.  Well today, it sank in.  I picked up Maggies ashes from the vet and brought them home.  He sat with the box that had her name on it and cried. 

We've decided to keep the ashes until July 4 (supposedly, that's her real birthday).  At that point, we will go to Restland and pour her ashes over Jason's grave.  She'll keep guard...that's what she does.  Oh yeah, and chase squirrels.