I wonder if this is it.

After a long time of not being able to imagine it, I finally worked up the courage to write about Einstien. This may not seem like a big deal to you guys, but to me? I wasn't sure I wanted to remember that ngiht. But in the car Monday morning, I suddenly knew that I needed to. So I did. I almost got carsick because it's hard to read or write in the car for me. But I did. And I'm writing this blog post on Tuesday morning, and probably won't post it until Wednesday or Thursday. Because his death affected me. A whole lot. And now? I'm healing, yes, but that doesn't mean I'm healed. There's a big difference. So here you go. This is called I wonder if this is it.

Today is the first time we will come home and you won't get here to greet us,or that we won't have to pick you up and watch you run around the car, happy to see everyone. Instead, I will face a grave in the yard. The last words we ever said about you while You were alive will not stop ringing in my head.

“I wonder if this is it.”

Will they ever, ever, stop? I wonder that as the words repeat to the sound of your feet walking down the hallway. Though it's only in my head. I can never hear that sound again from you. 

“I wonder if this is it.”

She was given the blessing of holding you while you choked and died. I would give anything for that. I hid in my room, hoping you would last until the morning, and I could enjoy your last few days. I shook my head silently when she said those six painful words. 

"I wonder if this is it."

I heard sobs shaking someone's soul. I didn't want to think about what that might mean. You had to be with us. You were part of our family. I waited, and the cries did not stop. I stared at the clock, not wanting to believe that you could possibly be gone. 

"I wonder if this is it."

I went down the steps slowly, not wanting to disturb the slumber of the children. My heart was slow,but each beat lasted the eternity before I knew you were gone. 

"I wonder if this is it."

She holds you, surrounded by everyone who loved you. I can't tell if you breathe,and I'm sure deep inside,I knew. 

"I wonder if this is it."

She looks around, and mom touches a lock of your hair. “At least  I got to be here.” The words escape from her mouth and my brother puts his arms around my shoulders. I try to stand,but instead I crumble to the ground. How could this be all? Dad beckons me over and I scoot on my knees to you. He puts his arm around me and I melt into him, soaking his shoulder in tears. 

"I wonder if this is it."

My biggest regret in this world is that I did not touch your dead body, feeling your wrinkly skin, cold and gone. Feel your wet nose ,no breath coming from it. 

"I wonder if this is it."

I wonder that all the time. 

"I wonder if this is it."

Sometimes I believe it.

"I wonder if this is it."

Sometimes I want to throw the words away forever. 

"I wonder if this is it."

Sometimes I run outside to where your dead cold shell is deep in the ground and cry forever more.

“I wonder if this is it.”

I wonder if this is it.

But this is not it. 

RIP

Last night at about 9:30, my dog Einstein left this world. Me my sister Moriah, my brother Toby, and my parents stayed up late into the night crying and sharing memories. He was beautiful dog, and we all loved him. It hurts that he's gone. He was a part of our family, and he died. This morning we told me little sisters and buried him in the back yard. We sang Amazing grace as we lowered him into the hole we dug, and I held a crying 4 year old girl in my arms. It hurt. A whole lot. I helped put the dirt over him,    And I wanted to take it back. I wanted to touch his body and make sure he was dead. But I knew he was. My sister was there. I only wish I touched him once before he was put in the ground. But it's too late now. And I want to ask my pooch to forgive me, but it's too late for that, too. I can only try to forgive myself. I wrote a poem. That's. The only thing I could try to do. Listen to music and write a poem. So here goes.

So many

Days

I yelled

Too many

Tears

I shed

All of that

Pain

Is here

I just want

It 

To dissapear

I should've

Thought

More clearly

I would've 

Reached

One more time

The pain grows

Though

It numbs, too

Don't think that

I'm 

Healing yet

Sometimes you

Can

Be broken

Pain can reach

In

And rip you out

There's one. I wrote another, too.

Pieces of me

Are with you

Watch over them

Your pain is gone

Though mine stays

Deep and rising

Tears shed deepest 

Not by me

By one you loved

She has more pain

Then I do

Doesn't matter

I will still say

Pain is pain

No matter what

I wish this pain

Would run off

I'm breaking off

I don't want to

Be alone

But I can't speak

These memories

So hurtful

Leave me alone

Pain is the one

World of love

Remember that

Embers of love

Don't forget

Tears falling stil

Saying something

Hurts too much

I just cry now

Walking away

Feels too wrong

But I can't speak

Someday maybe

This pain will

Wash away like

Waves of all my

Tears and blood

Lost and found heart

Memory Monday- My dog.

Hi! After an online outburst in a forum where I took a joke the wrong way and pushed words at said person that had been bottled up inside of me for all my life, words about my dog, I decided I would write about my him today.
Maybe you may not know, but my dog is hairless. He was born without hair, so it's totally normal. He's got no hair except for the top of his head, his feet, and the tip of his tail. His name is Einstein. he's been the family dog since around when I was born. And he's getting old.

I've actually been thinking about it a lot, but our dog probably won't be with us much longer. He's a part of our family, and it hurts to think of living without him, but maybe even by the end of the year he'll be gone. I'll miss every single little quirk about hi when he's gone. Since that's what Memory Monday is about, sharing little pieces of my life with you, I'll tell you.

• I love the way he used to hate people who wore hats. Even if it was just daddy coming home from work, if he was wearing his baseball cap, he would bark his heart out. He doesn't do that anymore, but I love to think about it.
• The way he hated pretty much everyone, including other dogs. 
• The way he thought he owned the street.
• The way he dealt with the little kids pinching his funny looking skin, and trying to ride on him. I don't think he ever bit them.
• When he got so exited when we went to drop him off to stay with his only friend, a dog one of my dads coworkers had, and he would run around excitedly the entire time there. Sadly, that dog has passed on.
• When we got home after a trip and he would run around the house like "Look at all of you, I missed you! Look at the house, I remember this house! I love it!"
• Whenever my mother went to use the bathroom, or shut him out of her room to do something, he would stand right outside, ready and guarding for when she came back out. 

Anyway, now that I've told you some of my favorite memories about my doggie-boy, I'm going to talk about his looks. I'm going to guess you think that he's ugly. If I told you I thought he was cute, you'd probably say, "But he looks like a huge rat!" Don't bother. I've heard that too many times. You can think he's ugly, just like I can think a movie isn't good. But don't tell me I can not think he's cute. Because I do. I do just like you think you cat or dog or bird is cute. And I will think he's cute until the day he dies.

I would like all Chinese-crested haters to know a few things. Einstein can't help who he is. That's what he looks like, it's how he was born. I don't say your dog is ugly, do I? No. I don't. Because it doesn't matter what he looks like. It doesn't matter one single bit. It matters who he is. And who he is is a loving, loyal, sweet dog who wouldn't let anyone hurt us if he could do anything about it. I would also like you to know that he doesn't look like a rat. Not at all. Rats have this thing called hair. The top of their heads is not covered in hair. So, if you think about it, dogs with hair look more like rats then my dog does. 

I love my dog, because he's a part of my family. He's loved me and taken care of me, and always listens to me cry is I need it. Someday, I may wake up and find him gone to this world. Someday it may happen. But I'm trying to be happy that he's here with us. now. 

It makes me tear up to think about how my little siblings, who are aged 4, 2, and 1, won't remember him like I do. They won't understand when he dies, either. Jubilee and EJ, (My two youngest siblings) may not even remember him at all. That's one of the things that hurts the most about when he leaves.

I'll miss him when he's gone. Everyone in our family will. I wrote this post so I could go back when he's gone and remember him, so I could have these pieces of the past forever, so I can come and tell my little siblings about him without having to forget. Because I love him. Because I love them, Because I want them to remember. And I don't want to ever forget.