yourwords

Friday’s prompt was one of those crazy coincidences that you marvel at bitterly. It was about writing to deal with death, right? Saturday morning, my dog got hit by a car. :( So of course I thought that Ernie needs a requiem, and where better to put it than on ‘yourwords’?

It feels too soon. This is a very important part of recording personal events. It’s hard to deal with emptiness and pain, but it’s harder still (for me) to concentrate on my emotions enough to write them extensively. I would rather not ‘force’ grief, but honestly, if it feels too soon, the pain is at the right level for you to start healing. I think that’s when you need it the most. So, I will ‘force’ my grief to write my little Ernie the requiem that he deserves, and hopefully feel better about it.

Here we go…

Poor Ernie. He smelled. He had a ratty, oily coat. He blundered his way through life. He loved me. He loved me so much that he wanted to protect me from all the dangers of the world. No delivery men. No cats, not even my own. No dogs or walkers-of-dogs. No bouncing balloons or stuffed rabbits. Friends could quickly become enemies if Ernie caught us in a mock-argument, or a play fight. Yet he was just a little thing. A little thing that made a lot of noise.

Ernie didn’t understand much. Share the house with a cat? Blasphemy. Too little to be seen by drivers, Ernie would constantly run up alongside cars, pawing at the doors and tires to be let inside. I nearly hit him once or twice. But it wasn’t me, or anyone that I know, that tragically didn’t know to look for him. One impact was enough to cut him down, when I wish it would have only been enough to teach him a lesson. That poor man. If I had killed any dog, especially one as vivacious and loving as Ernie, it would ruin me. But he didn’t know Ernie. He had never had the chance to enjoy Ernie, and get to love his wild personality. It takes time to get past his frankly ugly colors till you see his lovable character. It took time… So maybe the man isn’t as haunted by Ernie’s death as I would be. As I am.

You were taken from me so suddenly, my little baby. I never got to say goodbye. But I know your spirit is still here to protect me, to follow me wherever I go. I love you, little guy. Never forget that. I know I’ll never be able to forget you.

*tear* :(

You know you got to the heart of your emptiness when there’s a lump in your throat. When you reach that point, give yourself a pat on the back. I need one now. :( I think the last song I sang to him (because I’m crazy and used to sing when taking Ernie on a walk) was Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis. That’s fairly appropriate, so right now I dedicate it to Ernie.

prompt #5

Dedicate a song to a dearly departed. Write about why that song is for your loved one. Make it hard to write, to the point where it’s painful to continue writing. Find your throat-lump-point. Make sure to save this dedication somewhere were you can find it again later, when you’re feeling particularly nostalgic. If you have never known anyone who’s died, pick a pet. Or write how you would feel if someone close to you were to die, and then dedicate a song to them. If you’d like, maybe you could show that person your dedication. It might brighten their day to know how much they’d be missed.

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