Closure?

I've been trying to work up the guts to come back here...to say that I lost my best friend.  Yes, my best friend had 4 legs...and he's been my BEST friend through the thick and thin of the past decade.  I am so glad I have chronicled my relationship with my pups here on this blog.

Here is what I wrote on my Facebook page the day after I said goodbye...

We said our final goodbyes to Sampson last night.  Hardest thing I have ever had to do.  He was my BEST best friend over the past decade--better than I could ever have imagined when I picked up that little puppy nearly 10 years ago. I could write a dissertation-length eulogy, but the song I am posting (My Old Friend) says it better than I could right now.  So I will just say, while I have no peace and comfort now, I hope to find those by knowing his struggles are over and by remembering all of the love he received from and gave to so many others.  He taught me so much and will always be a part of me.  

"The love and the laughter, will live on long after, all of the sadness and the tears..."

Since then, I have worked through what I imagine are the stages of grief--intense anger and guilt (directed at myself), intense sorrow, and I've moved on to acceptance.  I accept that he is gone.  I accept that he lived a good life.  I accept that I did all I could.  What I can't accept, is that life really will be "okay" without him.  I'm still struggling to figure out my way and navigate adult life without my sidekick.  

I have since found comfort, as well.  Comfort from my friends and family, comfort from his medical team (yes, he had a team--a great one).  I have found peace knowing that his sweet soul will forever outlive his body.  But I still am not at peace with my loss.  I'm getting there, I think.  I started to go to a support group. But, as I told one of my dearest friends (who I met through Boxer Rescue when we were adopting Angel) that I couldn't go because I could never believe that anyone else loved their dog--their friend--as much as me.  Her response was priceless.  Mind you, this friend is the biggest animal lover I know--her house is literally dedicated to fostering homeless animals and finding them good homes.  She, herself, has lost some dear pets, including a boxer, in the past year.  She said, "I'm not sure anyone ever has loved a dog as much as you loved Sampson."  I suppose that, on top of the huge outpouring of support I received, helped me to know that Sampson knew he was loved beyond belief--and that's what truly matters.

In the time that has passed since Sampson's passing, I have also found some great outlets for my energy--including getting involved in a great organization that helps people pay for life-saving care of their pets.  I always felt one of our gifts to Sampson was the ability to handle all of his health issues.  He had the best of the best medical care--even if that meant sacrifices in other areas of our financial life.  He was worth it!  And I'm so glad that was not a guilt I had to grapple with through this process.  I am always searching for ways to share his story--to keep his memory alive.  This will get me through.


We also welcomed a new boxer boy into our home, Claymore.  I was hesitant at first, but as Buzz said, "This is just want we do.  We are dog people.  And if we're not dog people, I don't like us."  True, true.  Even after that, I was not sure I could manage another boxer.  But Sampson was partial to boxers--could pick one out of a crowd.  So we got a boxer, but one whose looks do not resemble that of Sampson.  He's a good boy.  He came from the same Boxer Rescue as Daisy and Angel.

So, today, I'm searching for closure.  I know that can't totally be achieved, but at least I can get it out here...on this blog...so I'm not "scared" to come back to it.  I am so lucky he spent his entire life with me.  He was the best.  And I carry him with me in my heart and my soul.  


I miss my Old Man...My Old Friend.  As I said in my Facebook note when I was at a complete loss for words, this song says it all...  As I told Sampson every night during our cuddle time before he drifted off to sleep, and as I told him the night I said my final "goodbyes" and "I love yous," 

Good Night, Sweet Prince.


"The love and the laughter will live on long after all of the sadness and the tears..."

Maybe?

So I'm working on positive thinking...I'm ALWAYS working on positive thinking, it just doesn't always work for me.  ;)  But looking over these old posts last night brought back some memories and have given me a better sense of time in terms of Sampson's progression.  And MAYBE, just MAYBE, things aren't AS bad as I have made them out to be...  Let's take a trip back in time...

You can chronicle Sampson back to 2002, but let's start with his back problems.  It was early in 2010 when we first became aware of his spondylosis.  He was exhibiting some crazy symptoms, including some trouble with mobility.  We found that disease on x-rays--the same disease that took our Angel-girl--and we found it the same way, with x-rays for strange symptoms.  We made some adjustments--crate downstairs, better attention to gentle exercise, etc.  Because of his crazy tummy problems, we couldn't go the long-term pain meds route.  That's when we started acupuncture.  It was AMAZING.  He literally went from not being able to go up and down stairs, to RUNNING all around the back yard like a crazy man.  Good times.

I can't believe that was two years ago...

He started to regress a little bit last year--maybe springish timeframe.  I was worried.  I even had family portraits taken at our house because I began to fear if I didn't do them soon, we may not have the opportunity to take them with Sampson.  Then, all of the sudden, at the same time his left foot began to drag to the point we needed his "boot" to keep his toes from bleeding, he perked up.  I didn't get it--but I loved it.  He went back to playing like a crazy fool in the mornings, talking to me when he woke up, kidney bean dancing better than any boxer, running laps around the yard, taking steps and jumps with no problem, and kissing me with his big sloppy boxer mouth.

Until now, I didn't make the connection...

The degenerative myelopathy (DM) is what causes the foot to drag.  It is indicative of his spinal nerves "dying."  Without nerves, there's no pain.  It's painless.

This horrible disease that I curse on a daily basis, that makes my old man wobble, that makes his legs drag and cross, that renders him unable to run has taken away his pain.

Now, I'm not going to go so far as to call DM a blessing in disguise, but I will say that this connection now makes sense.  Unfortunately,  it's progressed to the point that he can't kidney bean dance for me...or run...or walk normally.  But, for a moment in time--MONTHS of time--I now believe that it gave me my Sampson back--in full strength.  It took away his spondylosis pain--pain that can be excruciating--pain that can make a dog suffer to the point that no responsible human would allow.  Maybe, just maybe, DM gave me more time with my Sampson.

Sampson in the sun, Fall 2011

On his last set of x-rays, it showed his spondylosis had progressed beyond any stretch of the imagination.  Yet, because of the DM, he can't feel it.  His spondylosis has progressed beyond the extent that Angel's reached, yet we had to let her go because of the damage it had done.  Again, I can't call DM a "blessing," but I will be thankful--putting on my positive thinking hat--that he is still here.  And he is not in pain.

A Scoop of Moon-Flavored Ice Cream?

So, I'm back.  I've been here, just not *here*-here.  My writing time at the computer has been spent dissertating.  Dissertation is a dirty, dirty word to me right now.

But blogging fell by the wayside.  Lots has been going on, but I'm going to keep it short and to the point right now.  This blog started out in the "old days" of MySpace (ha!) as a place for me to write about my dogs.  Writing has always been therapeutic for me--not writing in the dissertation sense, but in the journaling sense.  And now, more than ever, I need some therapy. Sampson--my old man/my best friend--has degenerative myelopathy--more big words I have learned through Sampson's health issues.  It's not good.  Basically, the nerves in his spinal cord are dying.  (Here's a good, quick summary via the American Boxer Club: http://americanboxerclub.org/purina1.html .) He is becoming paralyzed.  He has lost almost all control over his left, back leg.  But he is holding on.  He has some good times and bad times.  I think he's still happy--getting joy from food, treats, and love.  We have made some adjustments to daily life.  My heart remains heavy--in all likelihood, his spine is going to give out before the rest of his body--and that means a tough, tough decision for me.  But I know it's the right one--I just hope I know when it's the "right" time.

I found this great blog today while Googling Sampson's disease.  Great, because 1.  It made me feel like I am not alone and 2. It reminded me that maybe blogging shouldn't fall by the wayside.  I came back here...my Moon-Flavored Ice Cream--the things that make me smile and give me the warm and fuzzies.  And I read about Sampson over the past few years.  I am glad I have a place where some of his life up until this point has been chronicled.  Maybe I should get back on that routine?

So, here I am...and I think I'll be back.  I can't promise when, the topic, or the tone.  If there is one thing Sampson has taught me, it's to be happy and enjoy the here and now.  Whether it was during a deployment or just a plain old gloomy day, he was there to make me smile--to bring me joy.  And that's the meaning of the crazy title of this blog...so, I *think* I will be able to make time for my writing therapy, with a scoop of Moon-Flavored Ice Cream.

Old stuff...

I'm changing it up a bit this week...taking it way back and stepping up the random factor.  I'm talking 80's cars and washing machines.  Yes, this post has it all.  :) 





I get nostalgic a lot.  Being part of a military family, I have learned to move and bid goodbye to "stuff" leaving me with just memories.  Some of those memories make me laugh, even if I don't mind leaving behind the "thing."  And, today, I'm taking it back to my first car...

1988 Ford Tempo GLS (not sure what the GLS means). 

It was reddish-maroon, 2 doors, instead of a spoiler it had some sort of fin-type thing.  It had "new" electric seatbelts, power locks, manual windows, some sort of power lumbar support button, and a tape deck that came with a sweet tape of awesome 80s music.  It was a 5-speed.  My parents bought it when I was in 3rd grade.  Little did I know I would be driving this fine piece of machinery to high school.  EM-BARRASSING!  But doesn't everyone have one of THOSE cars?!? 

It never stranded me.   But I called it "the bomb" because I felt it could blow up at any time.  And, secretly, I hoped it would so maybe I could get a new set of wheels.  It did have an issue with some hose breaking and making what I thought was smoke spill from the hood, but that was a quick fix.  The heating coil broke one year in college and we had to wait for the part.  It would overheat if you didn't turn the heater on full blast.  I fully remember driving down I-81 in the middle of winter with the heat blasting and the windows down because it felt like a sauna in there.  The cruise control didn't work when the A/C was on.  Something broke in the steering wheel once and the horn would just start randomly blowing...and it was the loudest horn I ever heard.  Ahh, memories.

I took it everywhere until I bid it goodbye my junior year of college when I bought my first new car.  We sold The Bomb to my uncle (who used it to drive back and forth to work so as not to put miles on their newer cars) for $475.  Asking price was going to be $500, but it needed an oil change at the time, so we took that into consideration.  Yeah, when the value of your car goes down because it needs an oil change--awesome. 

My dad used to sing this song "Old Yellow Car" from as far back as I can remember.  And, after bidding goodbye to the Tempo, it has a little more meaning now.  If you haven't heard it, it's worth a listen.  Don't get me wrong, I don't wish I was driving The Bomb NOW, but it will always hold a special place in my heart.  And there's something to be said for a car that's paid off, never leaves you on the side of the road, and you could care less if a grocery cart runs into it in a parking lot.  :)



And while I'm on the topic of old, funny songs and old stuff, I figure I may as well share this song as well. This is one my cousin used to sing all the time...I would beg for it because it made me laugh, and still does! Plus, he "jazzed it up" just a bit with the sound effects, which you will hear in this little tune, making it even better. :) Now, it reminds me of MY washing machine. The first grown up purchase that Buzz and I made together was our washer-dryer set. We got it on sale for like $500 (yes, for the SET--great deal, huh?!?) right after we were married at the Navy Exchange in Newport, RI. That was nearly 9 years ago...and it's still running. But that old washing machine is a lot louder with a variety of noises than it was in its new days. Hopefully it has some time left with us...but it's seen better days. And, when it's time to go, I guarantee I will be humming this song in my head for days.

Enjoy! Hope this provides some smiles and laughs...and I would love to hear about others' relationships with their bo-bo cars and household appliances. :)

The girl who stole my heart...

K has successfully tackled her first week of kindergarten.  Another milestone.  I feel so incredibly lucky to have such a strong, independent young lady.  And I can't believe how fast she is growing up right in front of me.  I can't say it happened over night.  There have been signs...  She doesn't like cartoons any more, or anything babyish.  She stopped riding in the running stroller (as much, sometimes I can still bribe her by letting her play Angry Birds) because she thinks that is babyish.  She's way into fashion.  She loves to listen to her iPod and pretend like she's making music videos.  Her favorite musical artists are Evanescence, Katy Perry, and Ke$ha.  I know, I know...don't judge, please.  I'm of the philosophy that I can't hide her from what's out there.  I heard a little boy in her class the other day singing Ke$ha, so we are not alone.  Plus, we're still all good because she still says my dad is the best singer and guitar player in the world.  So, she does have musical taste, she's just a fan of the top pop, too. 

Anyway...kindergarten is here.  And she's rocking it.  And I feel comfortable where she is.  My biggest issue is fear of all the germs she's being exposed to and the sociologist in me doesn't like that I am mandated to send her somewhere 5 days a week.  But if we have to do it, I think she is at the absolute best place for her.  We kept her at the same school where she went to Pre-K because we loved it so much.  Small classes, familiar faces.  Plus, next year will likely involve another move and all the transitions that come with that and Buzz changing billets again (ah the life of a military family).  So we thought the best thing we could do was give her this continuity while we can.  She has already told me how much she loves the school and wants to stay here for first grade, too or at least find a school just like it when we move (she wanted to have that discussion at 2 am the other night/morning).  They wear uniforms here--well, they have a dress code, I guess I should say.  But that dress code makes her look that much more grown-up.  What happened to my baby?  I'm glad for every milestone and realize how quickly they all pass...so I'm trying to eat up every minute. 

Also, she has continued with her riding lessons and has found a new friend in a pony.  She loves to go after school to hang out with her buddy.

My little girl is growing up...  But she is in this stage where she is still so young, needing just the right combination of protection and freedom.  I hope I am able to give her all that she needs.  She is always going to be that little bundle of joy I held in my arms the day she was born.  The girl who I would stay awake at night when all was quiet and slowed down just to watch her, in disbelief that precious little being was mine.  The baby who took off running one New Years Day, leaving me to not be able to sit down for the next few years.  The girl who would swing for hours and point to the moon every night.  The child who has been by MY side through deployments, keeping me sane and giving me purpose and strength.  The same child who I woke up in the middle of the night to greet a daddy coming home from Iraq, who she only really knew through pictures.  The child who, just a short time later, said goodbye to her daddy for another deployment--and asked him on webcam through that deployment why he wouldn't just come out of that computer and give her mommy a hug--who, when her daddy came home and swooped her up, she asked him to please put her down and give mommy a kiss.  The person who can comfort my dog when he is scared, nervous, or in pain.  The girl who gets more excited about my birthday than her own.  The kindergartner who, when I explained to her that I would need to be working all weekend on my exam, offered to bring me the books I need to the guest room where I will be working so I don't have to walk down the stairs and get them myself.  The child's heart bursts with compassion.  And that girl has stolen my heart--from the second I knew she existed to the moment I saw her in person to this morning when I left her at school playing happily with her friends to right now when I look forward to picking her up and taking her to riding lessons this afternoon.

So, in honor of my no-longer-baby girl, I have two songs to share this week for my favorite link-up. 

First, Jack Johnson's "My Little Girl"...the lyrics say it all.

Second, "My Wish" by Rascal Flats, which makes me tear up every time I hear it.  I know I can't hold her hand every step of the way, but I do hope that every step of the way she gets back all that she gives--and like the song says, I still hope she gives more than she takes.  I know she does now.  My wish is that she can keep her big heart and wear that warm smile even out in the cold world, where my time by her side gets shorter as she grows and I must trust that I am doing the right thing in the times we have together and I can teach her to be that big-hearted sweetheart on the outside, the same as she is on the inside--but tough enough to handle whatever comes her way.  My wish is that she follows her dreams and I can support her through it all.  I know with the life she was born into, that of a military child, many of the lyrics are even stronger for her:  it's hard for her worries to stay small sometimes, I know that sometimes she's going to have to bump up her strength in order to not have to carry more than she can hold, it might not be easy to remember all the places she's been and the people she meets. But she can do it.  She's an amazing little girl...growing up in front of my eyes...

Stop by Goodnight Moon, listen to the other jams, and leave one (or two) of your own!

In hiding...

Oh good grief, I'm terrible at writing on this thing these days.  I think about it all the time.  I love to write, to journal, to vent...and, in the past, this has been a good place to get all of that done in one place.  But lately, I've been a bit in hiding.  I have what could be my final comp exam coming up soon--it WILL be my final exam (yes, the last exam I will ever have to take) IF I pass it.  I'm sweating bullets thinking about it...ahh, stress...

But right now, I'm saturated with studying so I'm looking for things to do to keep my mind OFF the anxiety of the pending exam weekend--yes, weekend--it's 3 full days of test-taking. Ugh!

I have so much to write about...K started kindergarten, Sampson has had more "issues," I had an amazing week at the beach, I turned 31...

I'm stuck on that one right now.  I'm 31.  I feel like I should maybe be a little more successful, done with school, more financially stable.  But, I'm "just" a part-time college instructor/graduate teaching associate, I'm STILL in school, and I feel like a dog chasing its tail with money--largely due to the HUGE economic burdens of graduate school WITH a family.  But, I am where I am.  And I love where I am, if I don't think about the student loan debt.  :)  So, I missed my favorite link-up for the past few weeks with "Goodnight Moon" so I am playing my birthday song today (a couple weeks after the birthday itself) to remind me that I need to enjoy this "ride." 

'Round about my 24th birthday, Buzz got me the License to Chill CD (back when we bought CDs, not just bought music on iTunes).  "Trip around the Sun" was my instant favorite, as the first line is "So I'm singin' happy birthday..."  And, as the song says, this year gone by ain't been a piece of cake.  But neither is any year.  We are all lucky to have time to sit back (or sit up at the computer and have the opportunity to be in grad school, even if it means student loan debt too-long exams) and enjoy our trips around the sun.  One of my favorite parts of the song says "I'm just hanging on, while this ol' world keeps spinning.  And it's good to know it's out of my control.  If there's one thing that I've learned from all this living, is that it wouldn't change a thing if I let go."

I'm not planning on letting go--I'm fighting through exams, a dissertation, a sick dog, motherhood, military wife-life, and all that goes with it.  But, sometimes it is good to sit back and put things in perspective.  I'm not saying I won't have a major breakdown if I fail this exam--but the world will keep spinning if I do, or if I don't.  So, I'm working on enjoying the ride right now...and being thankful that I am in a place to pursue my dreams with my favorite people (and dogs) on earth, even if it comes with the ups and downs of success AND stress.

My life?

Well, it's been a while! I'm happy to report that I DID pass my last comp exam for my PhD...one more to go! I have still been busy working on school work during my summer. I've found some time to relax, too, but not too much time on the computer other than work.

But I LOVE this link-up, so here I am!  Prepare yourself for some memories--and check out the song if you ever have been/will go through a deployment or any other extended separation from a loved one.  I think it's one of the best!






I know it's a little far away, and I get nervous thinking about the future anyway, but I'm already concerned about our move...next year.  I will hopefully be a newly-hooded PhD in search of a job to pay off LOTS of student loans, we need to sell our house in an area where home values have fallen, K will have to change schools with our move to another state, and (the scariest) Buzz will be going back to a billet where he deploys.

These past couple of years have been quite an escape from that.  The Marine Corps life has never been foreign here--Buzz has still been around the world (including in Norway when my dad had his heart attack and in Africa when the doctors changed my endometriosis medicine too many times too quickly and my hormones nearly sent me into a nervous breakdown).  And he still works long hours and weekends.  But he is not gone for more than 6 weeks at a time.  And most nights he's home...and, no matter where he is, he's (relatively) safe.  And I know it's only a matter of days before we turn back into a together-family again.

That is a far cry from the life I remember at Camp Lejeune. 

Buzz's first deployment after K was born was bumped up about 6 months.  He left 2 days after her first birthday for training, came home for 2 weeks, and then was off to Iraq.  After 8 1/2 years in the Marine Corps at that time, I was no stranger to being separated from him.  But that first deployment was different--it was different with a child.  It was different because it was Iraq.  He had been to Afghanistan right after September 11, 2001 but that was before my married life.  I knew deployments were a whole new world, but I didn't know how it would slap me in the face so quickly and so harshly.

Buzz joined the Marine Corps in 1997--the world was a different place.  Prior to 2001, his "deployments" were pretty much cruises around the world where he had fun and did some work on the side.  Not the case anymore.

I look back on those days when K was young--2 deployments in 2 years.  I can't believe that was me living that life...that THOSE stories are a part of MY LIFE journey.  Who was that girl?  I don't know how I did it.  I know I have been married to 3 different men in the same body--he never comes back the same.  Nor am I the same when he comes back--K and I grow together and I change through the deployment process.  But the times DURING the actual deployment seem like a cross between a big blur and the most horrible feelings and emotions I can imagine.  Luckily, I had a strong group of friends to pull me through--friends who knew the same feelings and gave me strength to make it through the days.  Days were too big sometimes back then--sometimes it was just about making it through the hour. 

But I did it.

We made it.

Our family is so blessed and I never lose sight of that.

But now, I'm scared.  I'm already anxious about the emergence of those feelings again--and having to keep them under control to keep it together to be the mom (and wife) I need to be when my family needs me most. 

I'm not looking forward to it, but I do know it can be done--it will be done.  (There's no other choice.)  And, as usual, there is music to bring me through.  As I've said before, Buzz and I largely communicate through music when he is deployed.  This (below, "The Promise" by Tracy Chapman) was a song he shared with me on his pre-deployment leave before Iraq, round 1.  It brought me through...  So much that this (listen to the last verse of the song and it will make sense) was his welcome home sign on our house...where he arrived in the middle of the night 2 days before Thanksgiving, 2007.

So, as I try to shake off these fears and anxieties that are WAY premature, I will remember that at the end of these dark tunnels in our military family journey, there is a promise of warm hugs and happy welcome homes.

First hug of the year...April 2009, after Iraq deployment #2