Reposted from lanceandlili.com

Five months. Five months since I said good-bye to Lance. Five months since I held his paw in my hand. Five months since I kissed the back of his head as I was rubbing his back. Oh how he loved having his back rubbed. Five months since he tried stealing the bed from me. Five months since I gave my best friend hugs and kisses. I have good days and other days, I want nothing more than to sleep the pain away. But over the last few months, the loss I’ve been going through has been teaching me some lessons.

It’s Ok not to be OK

The biggest lesson I’ve been learning is this…it is ok not to be ok. I do not have to put a smile on for anyone when I am breaking inside.

The holidays this year were not great. While I am not a big Christmas person, I typically put up a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, personalized stockings, and put those battery operated candles in the windows. We would spoil the dogs with gifts from Santa, fill their stockings with treats, and the four of us would spend the day together.

I couldn’t do that this year. I kept asking my husband if we were going to put up the tree and stockings, but we both knew nothing was going to happen. I did a rushed visit to Chewy.com to buy Lili at least a couple gifts and treats, but I couldn’t do much beyond that. Finally, on December 24th, we brought the stockings out. I couldn’t hang them up. I came down on December 25th and my husband was kind enough to have laid them out on the back of a chair. We let Lili get the goodies out of the stocking and then the stockings soon disappeared.

But you know what, I’m ok with that. Was it what I wanted to do on Christmas? No, but it was all I could do. And that is ok. Learning to sit in my grief and let those feelings happen is a big step for me. I’m done stuffing those feelings inside and not expressing myself. I let the tears come out at four in the morning. Well, I let the tears come out most anytime of the day. I know having a day where I need to take time to grieve and feel sad for my loss is not how I am always going to feel. We live in a society telling us we need to be productive above anything else and no one wants to see you at your worst. Screw that, I’m done trying to always be strong, to make others feel comfortable, to deny the loss I feel.

It is ok not to be ok. It is ok to cry, to grieve, to “not get over it.”

I’m someone who has tried so hard to be “strong” in the past when circumstances of life came along. I didn’t want most people to know a job loss, an ending of a relationship, or dealing with the death of a loved one hurt me. I felt like I needed to show how strong and brave I was and I would be fine. I was usually a puddle of emotions on the inside, but I felt like I couldn’t let most people see that part of me.

But I’m not fine. I lost the furry love of my life, of course I’m not fine. I cry. I talk to Lance. I tell him I love him. I write letters to him. I look at his photos. I talk about him like he is still here. I choose to believe he is in doggy heaven because it comforts me. And those in my life need to know I have times where I'm not ok and I’m done apologizing for my grief.

I am becoming comfortable enough with my grief to tell people I am having a rough day. Wednesday was a rough day. It was five months since we said goodbye to Lance and I was not ok. I told my husband I was having a hard time. I posted on Facebook and Instagram letting people know I miss him. I want people to know the grief I’m experiencing, not for the sympathy, but to know our thoughts and feelings surrounding our individual grief should be normalized. I’m not going to hide my grief because it may make someone uncomfortable. I’d like to think the darkest days are behind me, but grief sneaks up on you at the most inopportune time. I took Wednesday to live with my grief. To feel my sadness, to cry for my Lance. But I also took time out of my day to tell Lance how much I love him, talk with my husband about what a good boy he was, and to remember our seven years together. And to honor Lance’s love of Chick-Fil-A, I stopped there for breakfast and took the time to think of the good times we had together.