Spiraling Upwards: From Sadness to Gladness
I’ve always been okay with sadness. It’s the suffering I don’t like.
In March Mackenzie & I were driving to the small animal hospital at University of Florida so we could stay close by for Bailey.
This was Bailey’s 7th trip to the hospital in 5 weeks, 200 miles each round trip. Maybe we should’ve been prepared, but when we dropped Bailey off at UF we weren’t packed for the night. So we rushed home to pack our things and get back to the hospital for our little girl.
Until you feel sadness it’s just a concept. In late January when we found out Bailey was sick I felt sadness like an anvil on my heart. When I found out that there was a chance Bailey might pass away there weren’t enough tissues in Orlando.
In my mind I had a vision for how we were supposed to have this conversation. Bailey was 12 and Bichons live on average 14–16 years. I envisioned years of decline and then sadness. Kinda like what they say about bankruptcy — gradual then all at once.
There was no decline. This wasn’t supposed to be it.
I remember after packing my clothes I came to sit at my desk for a few minutes while Kenz was still packing her things and I was just scrolling through my iPhone’s voicemails saving anything I could from my family members to Dropbox.
Over the 36 days Bailey was sick I learned a lot about myself. I learned that sadness hits me hardest when I’m surprised with new information. I learned that I’m pretty good at separating suffering from pain. And I learned that when I’m sad I’m bigggg SAD.
This was one of those big SAD moments. I have tons of photos and videos saved of Bailey. She may be falling out of reach, but no matter what happens she’ll live on in my phone. Hence why I was uploading my family to Dropbox. My sister said I was spiraling as I told her about it over the phone. Maybe I was. I thought about it as trying to hold onto my loves.
When we arrived back at UF we stayed at the Drury Inn. I never dreaded the phone ringing more. That was a difficult night.
Because we couldn’t sleep we passed the time the best way we knew how. Kenz did a healing meditation for Bailey. And I meditated in my own way by doodling Bay and capturing every little memory I had of her onto the page…
Eventually the sun did come up and at 11 a.m. we got the call. It was to visit our girl.
The drive from the Drury Inn to UF was short. It was starting to rain as we arrived and the sheep grazing on the lot next to the hospital were darting for shelter.
Kenz and I park in the ER’s small parking lot, squeeze each other’s hands and head in.
We’re welcomed pretty quickly by the attendants. They usher us into one of the small holding rooms and they leave us.
It’s not long before they return with our baby. Only she’s different. She’s wearing a green gauze collar that’s meant to secure her feeding tube. Her paw had been shaved when we brought her, but now an IV dangles conspicuously from it.
They hand her to me and I can tell immediately how much lighter she is.
A few days prior my friend Zhana at work said something that was ringing in my head:
“ You have not received bad news yet. There is hope.”
Kenz & I sit down with Bailey on the floor. That sentiment from Zhana was the latest mantra keeping me afloat the last few days, but today it was clear that it was time. We sat with Bailey for just under two hours. We watched her dream. We told her how strong she was and how every cloud reminds us of her. We even sang her happy birthday. (We never knew her true birthday so we never got around to throwing an official birthday party. I wasn’t about to let her go without singing her that song even if it was just this once).
Bailey didn’t come into my life as a puppy. She came into my life when Kenz came into my life. She was 2 or 3 years old and at it took me some time, but she weaseled her way into my heart. She, Kenz & I had 10 years together as a family unit so far.
The literal rain outside has turned into a full on thunderstorm.
The most jarring part of the process was the veterinary staff stepping us through the paperwork as we lay with Bailey in Kenz’s lap, her head resting on my hand. I get that it’s a necessary part of the process, but I didn’t like it.
Kenz & I give Bailey a big hug and we say goodbye.
Minutes later we’re back in the car without our little Muppet. The thunderstorm continues. We squeeze each other’s hands again and exchange “I love yous”.
We get back on the road, pass the Drury Inn and head back to Orlando.
It’s not long before Bailey starts to exert her influence up there.
We see 4 rainbows on the way home. A personal record.
We get home and immediately things are different. I don’t know if you’ve seen the movie Belfast, but it tells the story of a little boy who lives with his family during unrest in Ireland a few decades back. Not a lot stuck with me from that movie except for the scene where the boy’s favorite grandfather Mance Rayder passes away and when the boy returns home he’s reminded of his grandfather by the resounding silence of the spaces he once occupied. That’s how I feel.
It’s quickly apparent that we need to get out of the house so since we live in Orlando we head to the place that’s supposed to make you happy. It doesn’t.
We come home. We go to sleep. The new day greets us with flowers from our friends, phone calls from our loved ones and hugs from our neighbors. The day is hard, but thank goodness for them.
Future days are easier. I want to write Bailey a letter, but I don’t know what to say. How do you summarize a life?
Kenz & I learn a lot about ourselves and each other during this time. Bailey’s trials taught us how we handle grief together. We learned that when times get tough we pull together not part. It taught me more about Kenz’s capacity for caring and how I grieve. I grieve by watching videos of Bailey. They bring me a happy sadness. Kenz grieves differently.
In the following weeks 3 things change and I hope to carry these 3 things into the future:
- ) I start drawing Bailey travelling the world. I don’t know why, but I love doing it. It makes me feel connected to her and helps me feel like she’s having fun somewhere. I’ve never drawn original art before, but something’s changed in me.
- ) People treat Kenz & I differently when we’re walking around town just us, without Bailey. Bailey brought so much joy to everyone she met. I want to do that. I start by trying to give people positive, memorable experience in my micro-interactions and by being better to the people in my life. For example, at the grocery store I check out with a person rather than self-checkout and I thank them by name. I’m not saving the world, but I think people appreciate the personal touch. I know I appreciate the human interaction. I intend to do more of this forever.
- ) and lastly, Lily. Kenz & I decide we want to do it all over again. The pain of losing Bailey was unlike anything I’ve felt since I lost my best friend in grade school. But the pain is the price to pay for many years well-lived. Tomorrow we’re driving to Clearwater to pick up our new baby. She’ll never replace Bailey, but she doesn’t need to. We had a wonderful lifetime with Bailey and I’ll always remember her. Love is not a zero sum game and I can’t wait to love on Lily and welcome her into the family unit.
I mean how cute is she?
Thanks for reading. ✌️& 💜.
-Michael
P.S. After I drew Bailey’s happy place I reconsidered and determined it would have decidedly more cheese:
