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| In Memory of Miss Cookie Miyuki | |||
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 10/17/87 - 10/22/03 about losing miss cookie home archives contact us
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Thursday, April 29, 2004 My birthday this year was hard to get through without Cookie. I thought of her a lot...(of course when don't I)...now, today would have been my grandfather's (Papo's) birthday...and even though he's been gone for 17 years, I can still remember the jolly way he used to greet me and how his face would light up. I always knew he was a great man...his values, his charisma but more importantly, the way he treated my grandmother. Until the very end, he treated her like a queen...and that is probably the one thing that I will remember most about him. I take comfort in knowing that even though it has been nearly 20 years since Papo passed away, that I will always have memories to sustain me. One thing that I can never forget is all the memories I have of the people I have lost and mean the most. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Thursday, April 22, 2004 It's hard to believe that six months ago today, Cookie died. Everytime I think about it, I find it terribly difficult to wrap my head around. I think about that last day in great detail probably on a daily basis and honestly wonder how I have made it through without falling apart more. One would think that I lost more than just a dog by reading this blog and honestly, I did. As I've mentioned before, losing Cookie was almost worse than losing a human family member. Dogs give a kind of unconditional love that isn't like the love of humans. Hahaha, maybe it's becuase they can never talk back or disappoint you. The contribution a dog makes in a person's life (if they are lucky) is huge. They give of themselves because they know of nothing else. They don't ask for very much and give you the world in return. They fill a void in (if you have one) or enrich your life with only comfort and love and it isn't until that is gone that you realize your life was that much better because they were in it. God, I was lucky... posted by lisa | linkorama | | Tuesday, April 20, 2004 It's been several, several, several days since I've typed an entry here. I've been meaning to though. Lately though, it seems that I can't not think of Cookie -- more so than usual I'm afraid. I'm hitting the 6 month point...6 long months since Cookie passed -- 6 months of being without her, 6 months of emptiness and loss. There doesn't seem to be anything I can do to make myself think of her less or feel any better. Unfortunately, I feel even sadder and more empty without Cookie these days. My birthday is coming up...my first birthday without her and it feels horrible. The way I feel seems even more empty and sad than when my grandparents passed away. Yes, I've written that before, and though I feel horrible and hate having to say that, it's true. I don't know why I can't get past this. Who deals with death well? How does that happen? There are those people who can move past it and not dwell on the feeling...but I don't think I can...I don't think I ever did. I mean, I've lived for 6 months without my dog...and successfully. But I miss her...far more than I could have ever imagined. There were times when I would go on vacation and had to board her at the vet's office. By the end of my time away from her, I missed her so much that the one thing I needed more than anything was just to be near her. Spending time around her was healing, relaxing to me. Now though, when I miss her I can only rely on my memories for comfort because there is not Cookie to return to. I hate that. I hate that I can't ever see her again or hug her and just pet her little head. I've been listening to, Sherie Rene Scott's CD, Men I've Had and on it, there is a song by Jonathan Larson (he wrote the Pulitzer Prize winning musical Rent) called Love Heals and yes, since music is healing to me, this one was also meaningful: Love Heals Like a breath of midnight air Like a lighthouse Like a prayer Like the flicker and the flame the sky reveals Like a walk along the shore That you've walked a thousand times before Like the oceans roar Love heals There are those who shield their hearts Those who quit before they start Who frozen up the part of them that feels In the dark, they've lost their sight Like a ship without a star in the night But it's all right Love heals Love heals Love heals when pain's too much to bear When you reach out your hand And only the wind is there When life's unfair When things like us are not to be Love heals when you feel so small Like a grain of sand Like nothing at all When you look out at the sea That's where love will be That's where you'll find me You'll find me So if you fear the storm ahead As you lie awake in bed No one there to stroke your head And your mind reels If your face is salty wet If you're drowning in regret Just don't forget Don't forget Don't forget It's all right Love heals Love heals Love heals you Love heals Love heals -Jonathan Larson posted by lisa | linkorama | | Wednesday, April 14, 2004 These days (or rather nights) I can't sleep at all. Thoughts of Cookie seem to keep me awake -- thoughts of guilt, sadness and lonliness prevent me from sleeping early. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Friday, April 09, 2004 I am failing in my promise (to myself) that I would "blog" everyday about Miss Cookie. I have to say though, it's not as if I do not think about her each day because I do. Most nights, I cannot sleep because I think about her and miss her so much. It's really quite sad actually. The other night, her bed looked so lonely and empty, so I laid out her doggie sweater in her bed...just to make it look like she was still here. Though it made me very sad, there was something oddly comforting about seeing that. I hadn't picked up her sweater since last winter -- when she was still very much alive -- and touching the sweater reduced me to tears in a matter of seconds. But, at the same time, touching her sweater connected myself to her again. I'm approaching my 6 month anniversary of losing her, and sometimes I feel progress in my mourning period, but at the same time...I feel like it was yesterday. What I always feel though, is loss and lonliness from her absence. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Thursday, April 08, 2004 Happy birthday to Mamo....today would have been her birthday... **sigh** I had the best grandmother ever. When you think of the stereotype of the ultimate-loving grandmother, to me, Mamo is it. With her, I always felt love, pride, safety and unexplained comfort. I had a bond with her that I cannot describe...I only know that I feel more of a connection with her in some ways than with anyone else. I wish Mamo were here...every year on this day, I wear something that either she gave me or belonged to her as like a tribute to her. I will always remember the first time Cookie met Mamo...Mamo wasn't too into that...she wanted Cookie to stay away because in addition to not loving dogs, she was also allergic to a certain extent. Cookie was so smart...she knew not to stay near Mamo and sat in the opposite corner of her room the day we went to visit Mamo. I am still convinced that after Mamo died, Cookie to a certain extent embodied part of Mamo's spirit...there was something about Cookie that was very Mamo-esque...especially in her eyes...after Mamo passed. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Tuesday, April 06, 2004 I didn't know him very well, but today, my grandfather would have celebrated his birthday. Every year, I think about him on this day...and wish I could have spent more time together. I was 6 years old when he died...and while my most distinct memory of him is the La-Z-Boy he sat on and the dirt underneath his fingernails (he was a gardner by profession), I find comfort knowing I at least have memories of him to count on. It's very important to me to have memories and appreciation of those members of my family who are important to me. posted by lisa | linkorama | | Saturday, April 03, 2004 Last night, I dreamt about Cookie. We were in my room, and I was getting ready for the day, sitting on the floor in my room putting on makeup when Cookie appeared. She came waddling over to me and just watched me (as she often did). I don't remember if I actually touched her, but I got this feeling that I wasn't allowed to. I looked at her reflection in the mirror and you could almost see through her eyes. It was clear and faded into black. I remember that I was able to spend time with her and was happy to have her near me, but when I woke up, I was heartbroken to know that it was only a dream. posted by lisa | linkorama | | |
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