It's been two years, my love, and I miss you so much. So much. A few nights ago, I had trouble falling asleep. You were on my mind. I was remembering the good days - the days where we'd playfully wrestle, the days where we'd play fetch, the days when you would endlessly lick my face (and when your tongue went up my nose, ew!), the days were it'd be you, mum, Kristian, and I, and we'd just relax around the house or go to the park, and of course, how could I forget that one time where you decided you would slap me. (;P) I remember that, and it's still something we all joke about to this day.
But then, the bad times came. You got cancer. That horrible tumor grew on your back. You had trouble standing. You had trouble climbing the stairs. You even got to a point where you didn't want to go outside, so we had to put you in diapers. Remembering those times made me cry so much more. Why couldn't you have died for a more peaceful reason? Why did you have to have cancer? You were taken from our family so abruptly, and I try not to get angry about that. I try not to let the sadness overwhelm my heart. It's just that around this time of year, the pain comes back so much harder. I just have to remember that you had a good life on Earth. Like mum said, God put you down here for us, for a reason. You brought happiness to our family when we needed it most. You were our comfort, our support. And you fulfilled the task that God wanted you to. He saw that and wanted you back.
Of course, I get mad at Him sometimes. Why did it have to be you? But I have to remind myself that we are all here on Earth for a reason, and when it's our time to go, it's our time. We will meet again.
I'm imagining you up in Heaven with Granddad, chasing the ball (or bone) that he just threw for you. You have your tongue hanging out the side of your mouth, your little smile on your face, and your tail is furiously wagging. I imagine you not in pain, like you were here on Earth. It hurts to know that your last days weren't as peaceful as I wish they'd been. It hurts to know that you were only holding on for us. You licked our faces when you saw us cry. You tried to be yourself, and I know that was really hard. You were tired. We all knew that. And when your tumor began to bleed, we knew that was God's sign that it was time. Time for you to go home.
We'll meet again, Missey. I miss you so much. I do.
