Much has happened in the last few weeks, so let me try to condense it a bit.
I’ve been working on a journaling project for over a year now. It’s something designed to slow you down, help you focus, and give you a deeper connection with the words on the page having to do with Genesis. Getting the layout and design right has been a challenge, but I finally have it close to where I want it. I decided to order a sample copy from the publisher, something I could actually hold in my hands and test out the actual paper to see how it feels and how it holds up to different pens.
The full project will eventually cover every book of the Bible, starting with Genesis. For the test run I didn’t want to commit to printing the entire book since the publisher charges by the page, so I created a shortened version with just the first three chapters of Genesis. That way I could check the font, the paper, and the overall look before moving forward. After much effort, I finally ordered two sample books.
While I was waiting for them to arrive, our older rescue dog, Mr Pups, a pit boxer mix, began to decline. He was already a senior when we adopted him a little over three years ago, and during that time we gave him a loving, full life. His previous owner had been good to him, but after his passing, the dogs needed a home and we gladly took them in. Over the last few weeks, Mr Pups had slowed down more and more. He mostly ate and slept, which was fine, but soon he was struggling to get on his feet. He didn’t seem to be in pain, just weaker and wobblier every day.
A couple of days later he couldn’t get up at all. He weighed nearly 100 pounds, so helping him was a challenge, but we did all we could. I even slept in my clothes and shoes so I could jump up at night if I heard him struggling. On his final day, he couldn’t rise at all, and I knew it was time. With many tears and all the love I could give, we helped him pass peacefully. PB and his son dug a place for him in our growing pet cemetery, where he now rests beside our other beloved dogs.
I was exhausted. I had spent days by his side with very little sleep. And that very same day that we buried Mr Pups, my sample books arrived. I had planned to film an unboxing video, and then the next day do a live video demonstration with friends, but I just didn’t have it in me. My sister brought the package in, and as I was walking back up to the SkyCastle, my neighbor and dear friend caught up with me. She had heard about Mr Pups and came to console me. At first, I didn’t want company, but I’m glad she came. She had helped me in the very beginning by printing off some sample pages for my journaling project, so it felt right to open the box with her. She was so excited to see the finished samples in book form, and it meant a lot to share that moment.
The next day I was supposed to bring the books to our weekly “Crafts and Chatter” at church, but I started feeling sick. At first, I thought it was just exhaustion or allergies, but it turned out to be more, most likely C0vid. I never went to the doctor or got tested, but others I had been around tested positive and my symptoms lined up. I was down for a full week, missed our POA board meeting, and couldn’t make it to church. I rarely get sick, and usually it only lasts a day or two, but the stress from caring for Mr Pups had weakened my immune system, and this time it hit hard. And with the distractions of everything going on, I didn't recognize I was getting sick, I thought it was allergies and grief. So I hadn't taken the time to treat myself with my home remedies that I know would have otherwise cut that illness short.
By the next week I felt strong enough to go back to “Crafts and Chatter” and finally brought the books. A couple of ladies tested them out, and I asked for complete honesty. Since this project is so close to my heart, I needed outside eyes to catch what I couldn’t. Their main feedback was that the font size was just a bit too small, which is an easy fix. On the positive side, the paper turned out to be nearly perfect. I tested gel pens, fine-line markers, colored pencils, and even a calligraphy marker. None bled through except the calligraphy pen but only when I added water. I had chosen the heaviest uncoated paper available to avoid smudging, and it worked beautifully. Now all I need to do is tweak the font size, print one more sample, and then I’ll be ready to move ahead with the full book.
Since then, I’ve felt like I’ve been playing catch-up. Losing Mr Pups and then being sick drained my energy reserves. I’m still not back to full strength, but little by little I’m recovering. Just as I was getting back into the swing of things, I went to a game night with some ladies and learned that an old friend of mine had suddenly passed away from a heart attack. She used to live nearby but had moved away and I fell out of contact with her a few years ago. She was my age and someone I had always thought of as healthy. That news, on top of everything else, just about broke me. I stepped outside to cry and collect myself, and though I returned to the game, my heart wasn’t in it.
Normally I’m the one who holds everything together, the strong one, the caretaker. But this time I couldn’t maintain the brave face. It was my turn to grieve, my turn to be the one in need. I have lost more than a few friends over these last few months, people who are my age, people I considered healthy, it's something that makes me think of my own mortality.
Now, I’m slowly getting my head back in the game. I’m not sharing this for pity, only to be real about what’s been going on. It’s easy to write about the good things, but the hard things are part of life too. Death, sickness, loss, they hurt, but they’re also proof of love. If we didn’t have love, we wouldn’t feel grief. I’m thankful for my dogs, my friends, my family, and the people around me who care. Even in the middle of pain, I know I am blessed.
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