A is for Acceptance
Let us not look for you only in memory,
On the Death of the Beloved ~ John O’Donohue
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones.
Acceptance is supposed to be the final stage of grief, though of course the stages aren’t really linear, they are more chaotic, and you don’t really know what is coming next. Perhaps denial. Perhaps bargaining. Certainly tears.
Acceptance doesn’t mean you like what has happened. You aren’t glad to have lost your parents, your sibling, your friend, or your sweet dog. You don’t want to have the disappointment of a lost job, a career that has not panned out. You are not thrilled about money lost, perhaps decisions made that have long reaching consequences. These are all things that we mourn, that we grieve.
Acceptance means that we are coming to terms with this loss, that we can look past the pain, though the pain may still be there for a long while yet, and look into the future, perhaps with hope.
Losing Mulder has been really hard. I was heartbroken when Genevieve died, but I felt like she lived her whole life. Mulder’s life was cut short, and the cancer took him so very quickly. April 6th was his 8th birthday, the following week we found the lymphoma had come back. By the beginning of May, he was uncomfortable, so the vet gave him an enzyme injection that gave him some temporary relief. Two weeks later, we could feel the lymph nodes again, and by Friday morning we knew that it would be unkind to keep him even through the weekend.
We miss him so much. We don’t expect to see his nose peeking out the door anymore when we come home, or think he will come running when I cut a cucumber, wanting his share. But every time I cut a cucumber, I think of him and I wish he were here to enjoy its crunchy goodness.
I heard the poem above recently, and the lines I excerpted struck me. Mulder wants us to be happy. He wants us to remember him with laughter and joy, not pain and tears. He wants us to have hope. Just like my parents. Just like my friend. Just like Ted’s sister, and my grandparents, and everyone we have lost over the years.
38 Comments
Ally Bean
Beautifully written. I agree that acceptance is about “coming to terms with this loss,” which is often more difficult than experiencing the loss in the moment. The quote is perfect. Again my condolences.
J
Thank you Ally, for all of your support with Mulder over the years.
Elisabeth
I’m so sorry for the loss of Mulder – he was gorgeous inside and out and it makes sense that leaves a very big wound in your family.
What a beautiful tribute to his memory. My favourite quote about grief is: There is no expiration date. He will always be with you, and that will involve an element of pain, but how much joy he brought to. Wishing you peace and joy amidst the grief and tears. This was a lovely post and reminder <3
J
Thank you Elisabeth, I like that quote as well.
nance
I love that photo of dear, fluffy, joyful Mulder. What a terrific life you helped him have!
Oh, Acceptance–of anything–is so very, very difficult. It takes great strength. And the poet is right in that dwelling in the lonesomeness of the past robs us of the joy and beauty of the present. Still, it’s a battle.
This is a profound and thoughtful post, J. Thank you.
J
Thanks Nance. Like Ally, you’ve been around since (long before) we got Mulder back in 2015, and I apppreciate all of your support in our caring for him and missing him so much.
Beckett @ Birchwood Pie
You’re right. Pets give us so much joy, and it hurts so much when they leave us. I don’t think that I knew that Mulder was only 8, which just makes it harder. My favorite memory of him is that time that he wore a tie. No one will ever wear a tie better than Mulder.
J
Beckett, thank you, he did look dashing in that tie, didn’t he? That was to celebrate the end of Chemo. He hated most clothing, but he didn’t mind that one at all.
NGS
I can’t imagine my life without my girls. Hugs to you and I hope you hold your memory of Mulder close. Remember all the happy times and how well he was loved.
J
Thanks Engie, that’s the part of loving a pet that is so hard. We cannot imagine life without them, and yet, their lifespan is so short, that inevitably we are forced to live with it.
Daria
So very sorry for your loss. Today, el dia de todos los santos, I am celebrating the life of my cat Apollo who was sick and put to sleep on July 2 of 2020.
J
Hi Daria, yes, I was thinking about Dia de Muertos today. Sigh. I’m sorry about your loss of Apollo, and I hope that time has softened the edges of that grief.
Suzanne
Oh, this is so lovely. And so true. Acceptance doesn’t mean forgetting, or an end to the feelings. But it is an important step in the journey of loss. What a great photo of your beloved friend. My mom emailed me just this morning with a memory of her dog, who left this mortal plane a few years ago. The memories remain, even as the pain shifts more into the background.
J
Thanks Suzanne, I’m sure that memory of her dog brought a smile to your face and a pang to your heart. <3
Jenny
You really put this beautifully. Not to take this in a morbid direction, but when my mom died we had such a hard time with it. We kept fighting against it- ‘She was only 72! This shouldn’t have happened!” etc. One day I was thinking how I hoped my own kids wouldn’t suffer like that when I was gone, and I realized- my mom wouldn’t want ME to be suffering, either! It was an epiphany, and the beginning of acceptance.
The other piece of wisdom I heard was, “You never get over it, but you get used to it.” You’ll never get “over” losing Mulder, but you get used to the loss. And yes… Mulder wants you to be happy.
J
Thanks Jenny, My parents both died young, my mom at 66 and my dad at 73. I also struggled with those same feelings, that we were cheated of time together. And maybe part of the pain of losing Mulder so young is tied up with that other grief. Sigh.
Tobia | craftaliciousme
Beatifully written. Grief is such a tough feeling. It hits you in the most unexpected ways. It hurts and it is sad but ultimatly for me it means there was love. There is no grief without love and that always makes me smile.
J
Thanks Tobia, yes, Nance made a comment awhile ago that was similar, and of course we have Tennyson to thank for ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ Bittersweet, right?
Margaret
Yes, acceptance is a little bit of everything mixed together. It’s the denial, the tears and the anger. It’s most acceptance that we can grieve for as long and in whatever way suits us best. I thought Mulder was a gorgeous dog and loved your stories about him. I love cucumbers too! (they don’t love me back though)
J
Thanks Margaret, he WAS gorgeous, thank you. Cucumbers don’t like you? Not fair!
Steve
Beautiful tribute, and sorry for your loss. It’s never easy to say goodbye to anyone we’ve loved, whether humans or furry friends, and it’s important to allow ourselves time to grieve and all that entails. Never to be forgotten although we feel sadness at their departure but also balanced with happy memories of when you were together and the joy you brought to each other’s lives.
J
Thank you Steve, and welcome to my corner of the blogging world! I look forward to your posts for NaBloPoMo!
San
Julie, that was beautiful. Grief is hard and something none of us can avoid. Acceptance is a good place to be eventually, but sometimes it takes a lot of detours to get there. I am still so sorry about your losing Mulder. It’s especially hard to find acceptance when we feel that it wasn’t someone’s time to go.
I always loved the quote from Winnie the Pooh: “How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
J
Thanks San. Yeah, we were robbed with Mulder dying so young. Sigh.
Sarah
We miss Beatrix, too. Sometimes, when I come up the stairs from the basement and see one of the kids’ black and white activity backpacks, I think it;s her for a second and then miss her all over again (and also laugh because she was always just sort of sprawled on the floor like a backpack and sort of shaped like one, too).
J
Oh Sarah, I know. I think about you and B sometimes, and wonder how you’re doing with it all. She died too young, just like Mulder. Sigh.
Nicole MacPherson
Sweet Mulder. He was here on earth for such a short time, but what a gift he was to you and everyone around you.
J
Thanks Nicole, yes, he was such a gift in our lives!
Anthea Booysen
This is beautifully written. I’m sorry for your loss, grief is never easy.
J
Thank you Anthea, and welcome!
Melissa
Beautifully written. I feel for you. Pets really do become part of our families. When our dog Riley goes to our daughter’s place to stay the apartment feels empty.
J
Melissa, it’s funny how empty the house feels when they’re not there, isn’t it?
Stephany
Losing a pet is so very hard. They become such an integral part of our family and our daily lives. I know that feeling, although my pup died at almost 16, so he had lived a long, happy life by then. I lost my family dog when she was just 10, and that was such a big blow. Thinking of you!
J
Thanks Stephany, yes, it’s different somehow when they die too young, isn’t it? My first dog lived to be 16, and my second was almost 14, and somehow those were easier. Not easy, but easier.
coco
so sorry for your loss. I was not a pet person and thought would never be. Since we got our cat, now i’m totally a cat person. Although she’s mostly my daughter’s cat, I still feel very attached to it. We are calculating the age of the cat when Sofia goes to college, whether she can take the cat with her, to realize that she might be too old by then. It’s sad to know that some loved ones live so little but I guess we should instead embrace the days we do have them in our lives, just like people we have. Nothing guarantee they’ll be with us forever or long.
beautiful poem.
J
Thanks Coco, I will say that college might not be the best time to have a pet, unless you think she will be home a lot. I took my dog with me when I moved out, when she was 15. She was happy to be with me, but I think she might have been more comfortable at my mom’s house, since I worked and was at school and out with friends a lot. I regret bringing her with me.
Ernie
Oh, my heart. This is so sad. I’m sorry for your loss. It is so hard when time is cut short.
J
Thank you Ernie, genuinely.