Wow. Time flies.

I’m not sure how two and a half months passed since I’ve updated this blog. Yes, I’ve had a lot going on, but not THAT much.

I have a theory, though. I’ve seen a lot of people abandon their blogs after dealing with a loss and subsequent grief. There are plenty of reasons for this – changes of habit, depression, or just not wanting to return to the place where you’ve poured your heart out and exposed your wounds.

I think it might also include, at least with blogs, not wanting the memories to scroll off the main page. You keep updating, eventually the story of your loss won’t be as visible. It’s like you’re somehow no longer honouring those you lost and miss. By not having it out there, right in front, it’s as if you’ve forgotten or moved on.

Let me just say that moving on isn’t as easy as it sounds, even when you consciously try to do it. Greg and I talked about getting another dog, even inquired after a couple, and they were all dead ends. In the process, I’ve lost a lot of respect for animal rescue organizations (listing dogs for adoption that are so sick they’d be better off being put down, or refusing to tell you anything about a particular dog they’ve got listed on a site like PetFinder until you fill out an application “to prove you’re serious”) and it’s actually made the process even more difficult emotionally, and left both of us wracked with indecision. And guilt.

Pretty much all of the animals we’ve had have just sort of come to us. I bought Bowie sight unseen based on a description. Mollie the cat appeared in our BBQ one cold winter night. Our other cat (who passed away in 2008) literally followed us home. Tula was at the Humane Society when we went in, planning to take home another dog that had been adopted to someone else. So part of me thinks I need to just stop looking and wait. The right dog will show up, at the time when it’s supposed to.

I don’t much believe in religion, but I’m big on karma and fate.

As an aside – a nurse at my doctor’s office explained the technical process of Bowie’s death to me better than the vet did. When I was in for a physical and mentioned how he died (spleen cancer), she exclaimed “Oh, that’s the best way to go, if only we could all go like that!” Apparently when the cyst breaks and floods the system, it’s very much like anaesthesia when you’re having surgery. It’s not scary or freaky or painful, just kind of warm and fuzzy as you slip away into unconsciousness. I can’t believe how relieved I was after that conversation – a weight had truly been lifted from my shoulders, because my one concern was that he had been scared or in pain at the end. Knowing that was not the case makes the whole thing a bit easier to take.

Fortunately, our great losses of last year are being counter-balanced now. We are super-excited to welcome our niece Fiona Helen Marie Kirby into the world (born on February 16th) and Patrick Shannon McCauley (born to our friends Jeff and Kelly yesterday morning).

Life lost is replaced with life anew, and the joy of these new people in our lives dulls the ache of missing those that have gone. Or at least, it’s a distraction.

There have been other good things too – I received many job offers while we were on hiatus (people thought we were shutting TasteTO down, I guess), and accepted one, although the start date keeps getting pushed back, so I’m not ready to announce it to the world just yet. But it’s a big deal, and good for both me (regular and decent pay for writing about food!!) and for TasteTO.

So we’re on a more even keel for now. We’re adjusting. Many positive things have occurred. We’re happy. Still with a tinge of sadness (I’m STILL running into people on the street who want to know where Bowie is!), but knowing that the future will be bright. Never forgetting those we’ve lost, but remembering that there are still good things waiting for us out there in our lives.