Dogs and Mourning

I've just been told that I can't sleep with my dog anymore. A dermatologist has deemed me too ill for allergy testing but told me, due to my eczema, to take it as gospel that I'm allergic to longhaired animals. This broke me more than I had imagined. I feel as though I'm losing my very best friend, like the intimacy of the relationship is deteriorating right in front of me. She's a dog, all she can see is me rejecting her. She doesn't understand my words of love and now our physical tie has been severed.

Upon this complaint my colleague told me her boyfriend's dog was due to be put down. She welled up as she told me of his heartache, over half his life with this wonderful companion. I showed up with the most disastrous looking Victoria muffins you have ever seen - complete with vanilla icing and the melted remnants of chocolate stars. We spoke for quite some time about theatre and animals over tea. We were but a distraction. She came to me later that day feeling useless; all she could do was give hugs, make coffee and cry, she said. I told her of my wonderful uncle, the man that started me on my blogging venture.

He was a lively man at sixty-nine. The kind that told stories and painted vivid pictures in your head, so that his memories seemed like your memories and not just someone else's anecdotes.  I got just over twenty four hours off work to travel to the funeral and back, but having sat through the wake I missed the funeral to mind the young grand niece and nephew of my  late uncle. I was touring when the month's mind happened and cried my way through the show that night. When it came to his memorial service, two months after his death, I finally said goodbye to my beloved relative. The town where he died remembered his passing in the line of charity and protecting others. My boyfriend had never met him or most of the attending family but he sat by my side, held my hand and brought me coffee. He demonstrated love and his caring nature carried me through. I remember my grandmother's funeral a year and a half ago, how I wanted so badly to have someone there who wasn't affected by loss. I appreciated his presence greatly.

And that was the only comfort I could give to my colleague. She thanked me and lay down to rest.

Here's the thing about sorrow and depression: there is nothing you can do but sit there with them and let them know they're not alone in life. Depression is a near constant state of sadness and those suffering need to be reminded of love on an almost constant basis. When they are up you must let them do things for themselves; when they are low you must help them do what they're struggling with and remind them that they're not useless for struggling. Life is a war against your personal fears and emotions, and almost everybody finds strength in numbers. Be near the ones you hold dear and when you find distance let warm words fill the gap.

Hugs and smooth jazz,
depressivedetails@gmail.com