Closure

Nearly four months after her passing, my Grandma Lillian was laid to rest at the local cemetery yesterday. I have to say, I was expecting it to be a lot harder than it was. Maybe I didn't let myself absolutely fall to pieces at seeing her carried out of the hearse and onto the spot where she was going to be buried. But then again, seeing that it has been nearly four months after her death, enough time has passed where I've accepted it. Don't get me wrong, I was still sad. She was my grandmother after all; the closest I was to the two. But she is in a better place and no longer suffering. There were a couple of moments where I was about to get teary-eyed; specifically when the priest referred to her as "our sister" and how she was "sent to be with the angels in heaven." We all had the opportunity to stand next to her casket, but I felt that would just be too awkward with the crowd that was gathered there. We also could've watched her get lowered into the ground, but my sister was already a wreck during the memorial so be opted not to.

I was glad and rather humbled to see the crowd of people that showed up at my grandmother's burial service. I was expecting a much smaller group of people; generally just the immediate family. I would say at least 40 to 50 people were there and it actually warmed my heart that my grandmother had a healthy crowd at her service. She definitely deserved it. I even got to see a former teacher from high school there and a former custodian that I worked with for three years and whom became like a second mother to me. Obviously it's not the greatest of circumstances to see these people again, but nonetheless, it was still nice to see them after all these years.

After the service concluded, we headed over to the local Lutheran Church for a small luncheon. My grandmother had told my mom before she died that she did not care to have a public service like a wake, but she was open to having a small luncheon after her burial service. And I've got to admit, it was a perfect thing to have. I would say there was a large-enough crowd at the church and plenty of food. I got to speak with a bunch of people that I hadn't spoken to in quite some time and I even met a few others for the first time. Actually there was too much food as some of the items weren't even touched. But at least there was more than enough food than not enough. Once the luncheon concluded, we headed out to my grandmother's farm.

It's not a big secret that my mom's side of the family isn't particularly close. My mom was the only girl in the family and with three brothers, she was the closest to her mother. And after a visit to the farm, I realized that we probably won't be making too many more trips out there in the future. For my immediate family, grandma was really the only reason to go out to the farm. And our visits there really were few and far between. Unless our relationship with my uncles and cousins should miraculously change in the future, I just don't see how we'll need to be out there, particularly me. I was never around them that much growing up and I think it's too late in the game to start caring now.

All in all, my grandmother's burial brought me some closure of her passing but also left me with a bittersweet feeling. As I walked the grounds of the farm, I remembered certain spots that brought back memories of my time as a kid and young adult at grandma's. There were plenty of fond memories and a few I'd rather just forget. But then those were likely all of the memories that would accumulate from that point on at the farm. Without grandma, there's really no need for me to visit the farm. And so it would appear that that particular chapter has thus closed in my life.

Meaningful Songs in Times of Sorrow

The last few days I've been listening to songs that hold great meaning for me. There's one that's uplifting, others are reflective and one that's celebratory, of sorts. Some of them really help to bring out some emotion in me. If anything, they make me very sentimental. As I'm sure you know, this week has been pretty trying. Each new day is a tad bit better than the last; but it's going to take it's time. I can't expect myself to get over my grandmother's death in an instant; if I did, I'd consider myself to be downright heartless. Apparently I didn't realize how much of an effect she really had on me. Believe me, when she was in relative good health, she could be a pretty sassy woman. I know my mom would get disgusted with her in regards to some of her comments or actions. But I really think her illness tamed her. And I guess "illness" is the best way to describe it, because she had a multitude of problems. It's not like she had cancer; but it was very similar to cancer. Diabetes is what ultimately caused her death. It's been well over 10 years since she was diagnosed with it. As years passed by, her arteries got clogged. She even had to have some of her veins in her one leg bypassed because they were plugged. Then, arteries in her stomach became clogged and at that point, they couldn't do anything for her. They tried stents, but they were useless. She was in too weakened of a state to undergo bypass surgeries, so she was left to live out the rest of her life. And thus, that brings us up to the present day.

I got back to my apartment last night after an extended visit home. I was supposed to be back at work Tuesday morning but because of my grandma's death, I was on funeral leave for three additional days. Not exactly a great way to extend your weekend, that's for sure. But upon settling down, I walked over to the table and saw the Christmas cards I had received over the recent holidays. I picked up the one I received from my grandma with the signature saying "Love Grandma." I couldn't help but to tear up a little. I had other cards from various holidays stacked up under my table and I purposely went through the ones my grandma had sent. Each one holds a little more meaning for me now. Typically after awhile, I'd throw them out. I think I'll hold onto all of the ones I've collected from grandma for a long, long while.

Anything she gave me for gifts over the years will hold extra special meaning for me; there's no doubt about it. There are many shirts she's gotten me; one I've been wearing quite often lately because of our recent cold spell. It's a black and white checkered flannel shirt. It's so darn comfortable that I'll be wearing it a lot; as long as the weather stays cold. The slippers on my feet that I'm currently wearing were from grandma. The towels in my bathroom, the lunchbox in my closet, to the large canister of peanuts. Those are all from her. My grandmother may be gone in person, but she'll always remain with me in spirit. And all of those physical items will help me to remember her by in the years to come.

I hope for the readers of my blog, whether you follow it fairly frequently or check in every once in awhile - that you don't mind me rambling on and on about my grandma and her recent passing. I think in a way it's helping me to grieve by getting my words out there. In time, my blogs will return to discussing every day topics. But in the meantime, this is like a written memorial to my grandma. This blog initially started with a musical theme in mind but soon transitioned into my emotional state. Well, the meaningful songs I've been listening to lately have also helped me to grieve in a way. Their messages are poweful; and they really get you thinking about life. One of them I wrote about a little while back as part of my "inspirational music" series. It's a song by Kansas titled "Dust in the Wind."



Last but not least is a classic by ol' blue eyes himself; Frank Sinatra. I don't know how I happened to think of this song but it is just so fitting for circumstances like these. It's definitely a song of reflection, one of contemplation and of life choices. It's definitely a song that focuses on life and the decisions that went into completing this "life." And at the end of the day after the reflecting is over, this individual lived this life to their choosing because after all, "Yes it was (my) their way." It's none other than "My Way."

The Spiritual World

It's been three days since my grandmother passed and although I still have difficult moments in dealing with her death, overall I'd say I'm doing fine. She didn't want us to grieve too much for her and we have to keep in mind that she is in a much better place now, no longer having to suffer with the pains of her illness that she had to put up with for so long. What still gets me down is when I think about her laying in that hospital bed suffering and so drugged up. Then her telling my mom two night's before her death that she's going to miss her. Death is just so final. There's no turning back; no way to turn back time. All that remains are the memories. My grandma was just short of her 80th birthday, which she would've turned in June of this year. My mom and sister were going to plan a small party for her and as a matter of fact, they were talking about this a few days prior to her getting deathly ill. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.

My grandmother's passing was the first real death I've had to deal with in my family ever since I was real little, when both of my grandfather's passed away less than a year apart when I was five years old. It's been a real eye-opening experience for me. And what makes it easier to deal with is the fact that we've had two to three years to prepare for her ultimate passing. We knew it would happen eventually; we just didn't know when. Luckily for us, she was able to be with us for a lot longer than the doctors had initially predicted. Now I am left to wonder what it must've been like for her to die in those circumstances and leave everything behind. Dying is a part of life. We all must experience it at some time or another. Some experience it sooner than others. But I have to wonder what it must be like for her up in heaven now. What was her journey like from the real world to the spiritual world? What is it like to see friends and family members that have passed before her again? All of these truly are fascinating topics to ponder.

Needless to say, my grandmother's death has sparked my interest in knowing exactly what happens when people die. People have all sorts of opinions on what actually happens when we die. Some believe nothing happens when we pass on, while others believe we make the journey into heaven. A lot of our opinions are based on the religion we are part of. The common belief is that that there is a transition that takes place between human life and the spiritual. For those individuals that have experienced near-death occurrences, they claim to have had an out-of-body experience where a person's soul is outside of the actual body over looking the surroundings at the time the person has died and the soul not being able to communicate with anyone else who may be there. Then there's a transition to a light at the end of the tunnel; a darkened space which gradually opens up to a lighted area. People have also claimed to experience the overwhelming feeling of love upon arriving to the spiritual world, where they are greeted by spirits; angels if you will. There, they are communicated to - and for those who aren't ready to die yet, they are sent back to their bodies to live out the rest of their life. For those that may not believe in this kind of thing, you should check out some of the real-life accounts on YouTube. I am not here to sway people into believing something completely different from what they are used to. But the process of transitioning from human to spiritual life is a fascinating, yet heavy topic. Some people just aren't comfortable talking about it. That is completely understandable, too.

I guess you could say what actually happens to us after we die is still mostly a mystery. People have had first hand accounts of nearly dying but then coming back to life. Are we to believe that what they recall is true? There definitely seems to be a pattern amongst all of these near-death experiences. But it still is a secret; a mystery that we'll never be able to understand until we've reached that point. The idea of not knowing can be frightening, yet fascinating as well. We just can't completely shut out that idea - otherwise we'll be in for one big surprise once we get into the spiritual world.

Saying Goodbye

How do you begin to say goodbye to someone that's been part of your whole life? That's what I'm about to do in this blog, in speaking about my Grandma Lillian who passed away earlier this afternoon from a lengthy illness. Me and my family went to visit her yesterday - which ended up being the final time I got to see her alive. Seeing her in the condition she was in was very hard. But it was even harder when it was time for us to leave. She wasn't responsive the whole time we were there, which was about two hours. Her body seemed so lifeless, although she was still breathing. She would flinch every now and again and was in a very deep sleep. But she never opened her eyes. And I didn't get a chance to speak with her one last time. Either way, I still think it would've been difficult saying goodbye to her. As it was as we exited her room, when knowing that was going to be the final time I'd see her in person, I began to weep uncontrollably. I thought I did a good job of staying strong up until that point. I got a little misty-eyed at times, but I just couldn't hold it in at that point. Well, what are you gonna do? She was my grandmother after all. And now, the grieving process begins.

She died around noon with my sister, one of her sons, and a grandson by her side. In somewhat of an amazing coincidence or simply a matter of fate, my sister entered the room and just as she arrived, my grandma took one final, long breath and then passed away. My sister is a nurse at the hospital where she was and although she wasn't officially on duty the past few days, last night she took care of grandma. My sister woke her up at one point, communicated to her who all had been there the past few days to see her, which then she moaned a response, kind of cleaned up her face, and then told her she'd be there the next day to see her. Even though it seemed like grandma wasn't responsive, we still believe she knew what was going on. She knew that my sister was going to be back that next day around 11:30 and noon, and she waited. She waited to stick it out just a bit longer for my sister to arrive before breathing her last breath. Take it how you will, but my sister probably held the deepest connection to my grandma out of all of us. Her temperament, personality, to even physical features mirrored my grandma. So it only makes sense she would be there to see grandma pass away.

I'll say this about Grandma Lillian, she was a very strong woman. During her illness, she endured a lot of pain; oftentimes excruciating pain. I never saw her cry about anything and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. No, she wasn't the sweet, pleasant granny you see in cartoons. But it's what made her unique. She didn't put up with a lot of crap but she was sweet in her own ways, too. She always sent cards for important occasions and never stopped giving presents, either, even in her deteriorating condition. Whenever she needed something fixed at her house, either my dad or I would help out. We've done a lot for her over the years and although her illness was slowly zapping energy away from her, it was still grandma. She was feisty, stubborn, funny, sometimes zany, and usually a lot of fun. All of these and more are reasons to miss her.

You know, it's difficult to recall every single fond memory about grandma in just one blog. I had been trying to remember some of the most prolific to write about in preparation of her death. We knew as of Saturday that she wasn't much longer for this world. I had began thinking of the times when she would tag along with me and my parents when we went to watch both of my sisters play basketball in high school. No matter how far away they were, she'd come along. If the games were close enough to one of the bigger cities that had a fast food restaurant, we'd make a stop before going home to have a bite to eat. Just having her be in our presence was a real treat during those basketball trips. And when I got old enough to start playing basketball, she'd come to my games. But eventually she couldn't hack sitting in the bleachers anymore as they would hurt her back. So it got to the point where she couldn't come anymore. Oh well, it didn't matter anyways as I would end up quitting basketball altogether after my freshman year. Still, she was one supporter I enjoyed seeing in the stands.

One of her passions was bingo. Prior to her getting sick, she'd go bingo every night she could. I even accompanied her one time along with my mom to bingo. Neither of us won anything, but just seeing her in her glory was a real treat. I'll never forget the time when she, my mom and sister all won these huge jackpots at a bingo hall that has since closed up. I swear, that was the biggest highlight of her life when she won that much money. Even when she was pretty frail, just a year or two back, she'd venture out just to go bingo. It was an activity that was the highlight of her elderly life. I often think she loved it more than life itself. But it allowed her to get out of the house and to stay active. It didn't matter how many times we told her to quit, she still went anyways. I wouldn't say she was addicted, but pretty darn close. She didn't gamble away her money at least, although she never lived a truly extravagant life, either.

I don't care how much a person tries to prepare themselves about losing a loved one. For us, we had two, even three years to prepare for her ultimate death. She proved a lot of people wrong, especially the doctors who told her she had six months to a year to live. She lost weight and people thought that was such a great thing. No it wasn't great because she was starving herself because of the immense pain she would get in her stomach if she even tried eating a lot. She would eat just tiny portions as that's all she could handle. Like I said, she was a tough woman. She lived with diabetes for at least 15 years, suffered from a stroke that left part of her left side paralyzed, endured a heart attack during one of her last operations that left her heart weak, and stomach problems that ultimately cost her life in the end. The veins in her stomach ended up getting calcified and because of her condition - there's no way she could've gone through surgery and survived. Her intestines became blocked and gangrene set in. She struggled for a long time and put up with a lot. She outlived the projections they gave on her life. She was an amazing woman and I couldn't be more proud of her. And with that, I ultimately say goodbye, god bless, and may Grandma Lillian rest in peace up in heaven. She no longer has to suffer.

In Memory of Tim Russert

It's not often that the death of a TV personality would have a profound effect on me like that of the passing of NBC political analyst Tim Russert when he died last Friday. But his death is one that I cannot shake all that easily. I guess it was about 4:00 PM on Friday when I first heard the news about his death. I was checking my Yahoo e-mail account and my eyes read the first news headline saying "NBC's Tim Russert Collapses and Dies." My heart sank and I said aloud, "Oh no." It was then when I flipped through the channels to see which stations were covering it. Nothing on NBC; they had coverage of the U.S. Open golf tournament on. Nothing on CBS or ABC, either. The next thing closest to NBC is their news channel MSNBC, so I switched it over there. Sure enough, that Yahoo headline was no lie. Tim Russert passed away from an apparent heart attack. We have learned since then that he had suffered from coronary artery disease for a short time but was doing everything in his power to conrol it. But in a matter of an instant, a clot broke off and clogged up a main artery to his heart, causing his tragic death. I don't know the man personally but just from his appearances on television. I can't imagine what this must be like for his colleagues at NBC and his family/friends. He seemed like such a genuinely nice guy that cared for everyone around him. It is truly a gigantic loss for our country.

And you can see the amazing effect he had in regards to this country's political landscape. Not only did President Bush send along his condolences to those who knew Tim, but Vice President Dick Cheney, Democratic Presidential candidate Barack Obama, Republican Presidential candidate John McCain, both Mr. and Mrs. Clinton, Al Gore - right on down the list. After all, he was the moderator of "Meet the Press," the longest running television show in our nation's history and host of that program for 17 years. He interviewed all of those individuals on that program numerous times and many of the comments I've heard regarding his interviewing style is that he was tough but fair. Next to Tom Brokaw, Matt Lauer, and Brian Williams, Tim Russert was one of the faces of NBC news. Unfortunately, he's gone far too soon.

I guess one of the saddest things about his passing is that it occured during one of the most historic races for president in our country's history. Only recently Barack Obama became the presumptive Democratic nominee for president after months and months of presidential primaries and caucuses across this nation. And who's to say the race between McCain and Obama prior to November won't be just as fierce and riveting? It's just so unfortunate to see a guy like Russert who has been so involved in politics for the majority of his life and who's lived for this time of year has to be taken away just like that. I can tell you one thing, during previous election years, during presidential years or not, I always tuned into NBC and it was really only for one man and that was Tim Russert.

One of the lasting impacts for me regarding Tim's coverage of elections is of the 2000 Presidential election. There he was, with that small dry erase board making out calculations of electoral votes and writing "Florida, Florida, Florida" on it. That night, coverage of the election went on into the wee hours of the morning and Tim was still there for the majority of it. It was a historic night and one of the reasons that made it all the more intriguing was because of Tim Russert. I didn't watch "Meet the Press" all that often but when I did, it was clear that the man did his research and knew what he was talking about. I'd known him for his appearances on the Today Show and NBC Nightly News. And of course, on election night, there was one place I'd have my television tuned into, and that was NBC. I just don't think politics in America will ever be the same without Tim.

Like I said, his death will be difficult to shake for awhile. And I am sure I'm not the only one who feels this way. Many of us are casual viewers of NBC who have watched Tim when he delivered the latest poll results on air or talked about the latest political candidate news. But he was such an endearing individual - how could you not like the guy? Then there's his son Luke, who just recently graduated from college and just lost his dad two days prior to Father's Day. How could you not feel bad for him? He gave an interview with Matt Lauer this morning on the Today Show and I was so incredibly moved by his answers. Honestly, I don't know how he could even give an interview like that so soon after his dad's passing. He was incredibly strong and did an amazing job talking about his father. I have no doubts that he'll be just as successful as his dad as he grows.

So with that being said, here's to Tim and may he never be forgotten from our minds. We certainly owe him a great deal of respect and honor for his year's of TV coverage and for bringing us his insight and knowledge in regards to U.S. politics. R.I.P Tim.

A Life Lost

I was half asleep; in the beginning stages of my afternoon nap, when my dad walks into my room and hands me today's paper. I was thinking to myself, "what now?" But when I read the headline and the first sentence of the story, I immediately got up. A co-worker of mine had gone missing. He was last seen on Wednesday afternoon and hadn't been discovered as of Friday morning. He is on the same crew as I and although he has been with us for a relatively short time, I got to know him pretty well. He was always willing to help out, even if he didn't know certain areas of the plant. He, I, and the rest of our crew got off of midnight shift Wednesday morning. Sometime that afternoon, he went on a motorcycle ride and never came back.

How could you not think of the worst when someone goes missing? Certainly it was in the back of my mind, but I was more confident that he had gotten lost and perhaps his motorcycle broke down. It happens, especially in the thick forests of the Upper Peninsula. I expected him to be alive. I waited to watch the local news at 6:00 that evening to see if there were any updates. When the story came up, my heart sank...

"The search for a missing Ishpeming township man has ended after his body is found," the story started. I knew right then it wasn't good. Details on the accident are still under investigation, but it appears he failed to turn with a curve in the road he was driving on and went down an 80 foot embankment. He was found in a heavily wooded area where it was difficult to find him until today. Needless to say, I was shocked by the news. It's never something you expect to hear. It took my awhile for the news to register, but eventually did. Then I realized I would never see him at work again.

He was a heck of a nice guy, always friendly and helped out wherever he was needed. He was a stand-up person, not afraid to learn or to get dirty. One of the last things he and I talked about before our long weekend started was his plans to paint his house this weekend. He had actually planned to go camping down near Wisconsin Dells but changed his plans because he needed to get his house painted. We had discussed that Thursday was going to be a perfect day for it - since it was going to be in the 60's and the paint wouldn't dry as fast. He even talked about an accident his wife had been in previously and how angry at the treatment she received by the city's police department. Fate would have it that he would get into his own accident the next day.

So I am not in the best of moods considering the news of the past day. He is an individual that will be missed and hard to replace. It just goes to show you that life can be way too short. You just never know when it'll be your time to go.

A New Neighbor

Nearly two years ago, I wrote a blog on my TAIC message board about the passing of our next door neighbor in my hometown. Here is an exact copy of that blog:

April 28, 2005
You know, there's a certain song re-made a few years back by the Counting Crows called "Big Yellow Taxi." There's a line that goes "you don't know what you got 'till it's gone." Well it seems to me that line couldn't ring any truer yesterday and today. Our next door neighbor of 30 years (ever since my parents lived in our house) passed away yesterday morning. I wouldn't say we were extremely close neighbors, but we did help her out a lot and she was always kind and courteous to us whenever we saw her. Ever since I can remember, I've seen her mowing her lawn, hanging clothes, driving her car in and out of the garage, shoveling snow off the roof, walking down the driveway to get the newspaper, sitting on her front porch...and the list goes on. But suddenly, it's no more. Needless to say, she was old (83) and had increasing health problems over the years. In the last year, she had too many health problems that ultimately lead to her death. But it's not easy saying goodbye. Our faithful neighbor of so many years will no longer be there next door. That person to call in case we ever had any problems. Eventually we'll have to get used to the idea of having a new neighbor living next door; and it's completely unfathomable right now. So is the thought of that house staying empty until we get a new neighbor. There's so a lot of uncertainy, a lot of anxiousness, and really lots of reflextion. Our neighborhood is changing by the years and there's nothing to stop it. People move in and out; people die and people are born. It's actually the story of life, and it's occuring within my neighborhood. At least I can say I hold a lot of memories of my neighbor - all of them happy ones. At least nobody can take my memories away.

I bring this up because nearly after two years, it appears we are finally getting a new neighbor. I remember how empty and quiet the house next door and its yard seemed during that spring and summer after the neighbor lady died. It was an awkward time - and an even more startling thought then was fathoming us having a new neighbor. It just seemed totally impossible! But as the months went on, my family grew accustomed to it. Now, we are used to not having a neighbor and the adjustment period will once again begin. But the nice part is, I know the individual that is buying the house. He and his wife will be moving in during the next few months and he's someone that I hung out at school with - most notably during my senior year of high school. He's a good natured, honest individual that I know will take care of things over there. I know that he is not really a confrontational person and I have never seen him get very angry at anyone. Knowing this, it pleases me that he will become the owner of the property next door. He'll be someone I can visit (besides my parents) whenever I make the trek home on my days off.

It'll be interesting to see what he does with the place. The previous owner took great care of the property while she was alive. The year before she died, my dad pointed out to her a maple tree that was severely rotted and had the potential to fall on her home and cause serious damage. Not soon afterwards, she had a tree cutting service come in and cut down not only that tree, but two others. One of the other trees was this ugly looking white pine that rose many feet in the air and was 15 feet from our house. We always disliked this tree and even though it was real close to the property line (still on her property though), it still posed a threat it we ever got a bad wind storm. So my neighbor agreed to have this tree cut down as well (my dad even said she didn't like that tree). She always maintained the home and the property around it, but the place is in need of additional maintenance. The house will need to be re-painted or re-sided, windows re-painted or replaced, and a new roof installed on the back garage. These are things you notice while a house sits vacant and remains up for sale for many months. I have no doubt in my mind he'll make the place one of the best looking houses in Chatham once again.

In the meantime, nothing has changed. The property next door still looks quiet and unassuming. And with two feet of snow on the ground, the new neighbors probably won't be officially moved in for awhile yet. However, it won't be long until my family gets accustomed to having a next door neighbor once again.

Four Years...

It's hard to believe it's almost four years since I last saw our pet dog, Spike, alive. The anniversary of his passing is this Monday (March 26), and before I forget, I thought I'd write about the day in which we made the difficult decision to have him put down. It's amazing how attached you become to your pets; but it's really not hard to understand, especially when you consider how long they have been with you. In Spike's case, he was alive with us for 12 years. That's a long time, especially in dog years. But, it's never long enough.

Leading up to the event, we knew that Spike was not himself. True, he was getting old, but once he would no longer eat his favorite doggie treats, something was really wrong. His breathing became abnormal - short, staggered breaths. He also had great difficulty getting up and walking around. It's why you often saw him laying and not even rising when one of us came outside. It was time to bring him in to the vet; but it wasn't going to be easy. He did not liked to be lifted, but it was the only way we were getting him in the back seat of the car. My dad had that difficult task. Spike snarled and growled, but my dad got him into the car; setting him on a blanket. It was time to take that fateful trip to the vet.

I'll be perfectly honest, having him put down NEVER crossed my mind before or during the trip to the vet. I don't know why; maybe I was in denial that he was really that sick. I figured there was something the vet could do; maybe give him some pills or do something to make him feel better. But the fact of the matter was, he was in too bad of shape to have anything done to him. And we would soon find that out after talking to the vet.

It had been years since Spike was last at the vet. In fact, he was only one or two years old when we took him in after he was hit by a truck. We lived out in the country where getting the regular animal vaccinations was not enforced by no means. Spike never got sick and as long as he stayed around in the backyard, we knew he was pretty safe. He suffered a severe injury to his head when he was hit by a truck. It's amazing to all of us that he didn't die from the accident. In fact, my dad thought he was in such bad shape that he went and borrowed a gun to put him down. After laying motionless, Spike suddenly disappeared, and we soon had to find him. He was under the front deck, panting, and seemed to be happy, despite nearly being killed and in obvious pain. That trip to the vet cost hundreds of dollars after the vet ended up doing surgery to Spike's head. I suspect that Spike was never 100% normal from that point on, but he seemed to do quite well for a long time. We had been through a lot together, not just me, but the rest of my family as well. You can see why it was so difficult to make the decision and have him put away.

After examining Spike, the vet had a look of despair on his face. Spike was very uncomfortable, and lifting him onto the examination table was no easy task. He had cancer and the outlook was not good. The vet even said that surgery probably wouldn't even help matters and he may not live much longer; even after surgery. The fact is, he was old. That's when it finally hit me, "Oh god, we have to put him down." That's when I started to get very emotional. I tried holding back the tears, but I just couldn't help it. Before long, I was sobbing away, looking for a kleenex. 12 years together, and this was how it was going to end. Even though I wanted Spike to feel better and to have the surgery, I knew it just was not practical. To have him put down would end his suffering. And that's what my dad and I both decided on.

After saying our final goodbyes and giving him one last pet, we left the room. I had a feeling Spike knew what was happening to him, as he was barking and growling. They even had to put a muzzle on him - just in case he would bite someone. I sat in the waiting room, crying my eyes out, listening to the barks starting to fade out. And then, they ended. He was gone. That didn't make me feel any better and I was relieved to be out of the vet's office. We still had a couple of feet of snow left and the ground was still quite frozen. A part of me wanted us to take Spike's body home and give him a proper burial. But it just wasn't possible and the vet ended up disposing the body. The ordeal was finally over.

I spent a good period of time in mourning after Spike's passing. Certain songs on the radio became very difficult to listen to as they reminded me of him. The backyard was very eerie, due to his lacking presence. Things just weren't the same; but I knew that it would take time to adjust to being without a family pet. And eventually, things weren't as difficult.

Now that its been four year since that day, I know we made the best decision for everyone, even Spike. As I said earlier in the blog, he no longer suffered from the cancer that was limiting his life. 12 years is a long time and I have many wonderful memories of him as out pet. Those are the memories I will cherish for a very long time into the future. RIP Spike.