Bettis

The day death pulled back it’s curtain to reveal itself to me, I wasn’t ready.  The grief was so deep it took my breath away. He was such a sweet innocent spirit, well sometimes not too innocent.  There was a bit of naughty in him that still brings a smile to my face.  I remember the time we caught him with a steak hanging out the side of his mouth or watching as he bounced the cupboard doors open with his big Lab nose.    

The day we let him go it was raining outside.  It wasn’t a soft steady rain, but a hard soaking rain that pelted us as we escaped out the side door of the vet’s office.  It seeped into our clothing, mixing with the tears flowing down our cheeks.  The guttural cries came up from the deepest part of our souls.  This was grief I thought.  I had never experienced such intense pain before.  It was unexpected.

But just as unexpectedly I began to heal.  Day by day life went on around me.  I started to breathe a little easier.  I still wanted him back, and would have traded almost anything.  But still the healing continued. It was in this time in my life that I took to heart this verse in Philippians. “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!”