Thank you all for your kind wishes and thoughts.
It's been a hard weekend for me. Friday, the day after it happened, I did go to work, although several people told me not to. I didn't really feel like it, but the only other option was to stay at home, which was where I buried him. I felt like that less.
I did ok through the day, but my grief would just surge forward in waves, and I like to think I kept my sobs relatively quiet. Unlike most days, I dreaded the end of the work day. For the last 5 weeks, I got to go home to a happy little face at the top of the stairs, ready to play. Now, all I had to go home to was a grave.
I got to the car, but as soon as I got inside and closed the car, I completely lost it. Afterwards, I drove home, and I thought the hardest thing would be walking in from the garage, and not seeing his face at the top of the stairs.
I made it home, and didn't see his face, and I was ok. Maybe I was prepared for it. Then I went up to my bedroom, and started putting my work things away. Then, I looked on my nightstand.
You see, the night Bear died, my brother, who is living with me, took Bear's collar off, to preserve it, and noticed that Bear's tag was missing. We looked for it, but had no luck in the dark.
When I looked on the stand, the tag was there. It was bent. From the initial impact or from spending a day on the road, I do not know. But as I held it, I realized that the SUV hit him so hard that it ripped the tag from his little collar. And then I completely lost it, as the weight of the event enveloped me once again.
My brother said that he had spent the day looking for it, but didn't have any luck. he said that he asked God to help him find it, and as he walked down the street, crying, he just happened to stop and find it at his feet.
It made me sad to see it, but, in a way, I'm glad that he found it. Closure, perhaps.
I still can't believe he's gone. And I wish I could have saved him. That I would have saved him.
Last edited by Pattyobrien3; 10-15-2012 at 07:01 PM.