My Grief Looks Like Guns N' Roses

We turn away from death. 

Someone else handles the dead. 

Someone else makes the arrangements. 

Someone else takes care of it. 

We don’t deal with it. 

This makes me wonder: Does turning away from the process of death hinder our grief? 

She’s got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories 

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky 

Looking death in the eyes was the most selfless thing I could have done. Instead of having the veterinarian deal with it, I made sure to face it. 

When he drifted off, I made sure that my face was the last thing he saw, and my voice was the last thing he heard. 

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place 

And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry 

When the final medication took effect, the light in him went out, like a candle snuffed. Like pulsating embers, his body remained warm while reacting to the medication When all was done, his muscles seemed to relax, releasing his once contained soul. It reminded me of the final stream of smoke ascending from the wick of a candle, joining the air we breathe and the wind that grazes our cheeks. 

She’s got eyes of the bluest skies 

As if they thought of rain

I’d hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain 

I wonder where his soul went. Did it transform; like water changes to liquid, like liquid changes into gas? Will his soul take the shape of raindrops? I should hope so, for rain would disguise the tears running from my eyes. 

Her hair reminds me of a warm, safe place

Where as a child I’d hide

And pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by 

Carrying him to the crematorium was the harder, but necessary thing to do. Leaving his body with a stranger didn’t feel right. I had promised him I would be there 'til the end, which in my opinion, includes taking every step I could possibly take with him and his story. Even the pawprints were made by me. 

Woah, oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o’ mine

Being an active participant in this process is not the norm, but I have felt much more closure and peace than I have before. 

Woah, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

We brought the other dogs with us to pick up his remains. It was important that we did this as a family. It would have been easier to have someone else pick them up, or have them shipped; but making the drive together is another way to participate in this process. 

Woah, oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o’ mine

These days, my grief looks like this: 

Home cooked curry and noodles. 

Letting the twice daily alarm for his medication to continue to ring. 

Baking the clay with his pawprints and printing pictures of him. 

Indecision when shopping for an urn. 

Woah, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

Drawing his portrait. 

Saying out of the blue, “I miss him,” and keeping his picture as my screensaver.

A hot cup of cocoa.

Leaving his toys screen about. 

Where do we go? Where do we go now? 

Daily, I face my grief – and will continue to do so until it has resolved itself. 

Sweet child, sweet child of mine.

*Cover of Sweet Child O' Mine by Jada Facer ft. Kyson Facer

---

Natalie Frazier, LMFT

Natalie's work is primarily focused on Couples and Individual Adults. She is experienced in grief and loss counseling, traumas (sexual and life-threatening), marital relations (including communication skills and infidelity), and emotion regulation (such as anger management and depression). She seeks to be an ally to all communities.