I lost a follower from my blog today. She was my friend. At one point in the seemingly distant past, she was my partner. We were really good together. I learned a lot from her, but I don’t think I was able to teach her much, otherwise we would still be friends.
I never managed to teach her my joy for life.
We had good times, we had a lot of bad times as well, hard times, too.
I found my love of Greyhounds through her persistence of wanting a dog again. I wasn’t so sure, but we got one anyway. Grace. Our special, beautiful darling girl.
Then Joe, because he wriggled his way into our little family.
Until we fell apart for all the wrong reasons, because we were together for all the wrong reasons to begin with. Somehow, though, we salvaged the family and stayed friends. Lived in the same house, separate rooms, took turns in having the babies sleep with us in the room.
Then we really fell apart and that hurt more than anything.
She left me behind for reasons I cannot fathom to this day. But I had the babies, at least for a while. I was set to leave the country, immigrations had granted a stay, but only for so long.
We mended, barely, and made the rest of my time worthwhile, in a land so beautiful I only really appreciated it after I left. It was almost back to where we were when we first met. And we had the babies.
I left. It wasn’t easy. The second hardest goodbye I’ve ever had to say.
We stayed in touch, because we still had the babies, now living with her and her new partner. But they would always be ours.
Only five months after I left we lost Joe. Cancer, big, bad and undiscovered. I am still blaming myself, because he had it already when I still had him.
We cried on the phone. It was hard.
When we lost Grace, only three months later, it broke me. She was meant to outlive as us all. Not get mauled by another dog. That one I blamed on my ex. I’ve never told her, but I believe she probably blamed it on herself as well.
Yesterday she said she wished we were all still back together at home, in our house, with our babies. Sometimes I wish that too, but those days are long gone. The chapter closed.
Then all hell broke loose and today she’s gone.
I wrote her, because she gave a perfunctory goodbye. I was frank, compassionate and full of sorrow.
I don’t let people go easily. Not after having shared so much and been through so much.
I wrote both yesterday’s posts because of her. And I write this for me.
I crave closure, but I don’t think I will get it.
I miss my babies, our babies.
And a part of me will always miss her and always wonder what became of her. I was meant to go back next year, as part of my big trip. Wanted to stay for Christmas, because we kind of owed each other a proper Christmas together. But now I don’t know if I can ever set foot on New Zealand again.
Too many memories.