It's been nearly a week since I released Phoebe from her aging body. It is hard to understand how such a little thing has left such a big hole in my life.
I miss making sure she was safe from the rough play of Luke and Joey and checking that she wasn't under my feet when moving about. I still have sudden thoughts that I should go and find her to make sure she isn't stuck under a piece of furniture and always looking for the puddles that need to be cleaned up. Who would have imagined I would feel so lost not having to mop the floor several times a day.
What I really miss is picking her up when she was agitated and holding her to my chest and having her relax immediately and sigh deeply like she was content, safe and comfortable. It was like the beating of my heart connected us and now I can't hold her and it hurts.
A few days ago I had to pick out an urn for her and couldn't decide on the colors that I felt reflected her personality. For a moment I thought black for the devil in her and then white because sometimes she was an angel. I took a walk outside and the front of our house has a large square of white concrete and it was covered all over with petals from a lovely pink rose planted at the side of the house. I had never seen the petals scattered by the wind out the front before.
There was a little white urn with pink flowers on it so maybe Phoebe has chosen this herself and showed me what she wanted, so soon she will be coming home in her pink flowers and will join Buddy and Nelson on the bookcase.
We will get a picture of her enlarged like the others and hope soon I can smile at it like I do with the others whenever I walk past remembering happier times.
Jenny