A good friend popped the question, which I knew had to come one day, "Why are you doing this to yourself?". She wondered why I prolonged my grief by three weeks. Why couldn't I let go. Wasn't it better to try to move forward?
I didn't answer, although I thanked her silently for being worried about my mental state of health. And I couldn't answer because I wouldn't even know how to answer that question. I don't know what's best. I wouldn't recommend anything we did during Viva's passing to anybody, as grief is a personal process. I can only say I followed my heart, as that is where Viva is. And following it, is therefore the closest I can get to her. Grief follows no logic.
My 5-year old "grand-daughter" - it would take too long to explain our exact relationship - seems to get that. When she visited us with her family on one of the days we were at the West-coast, she brought gifts for Kenzo and Viva, even though her family explained beforehand Viva was in heaven. Not that her family is religious, but how do you explain to a 5-year old, that one of the dogs she grew up with is no more. Heaven is handy, also for the not-religious.
And while the family was busy shopping, I was anxious we couldn't make it to see the sunset. Something I always did with Viva on our trips. With only half-an-hour to go, I explained them I had to go now, to chase sunsets with Viva, and a little hand grabbed mine, saying she wanted to join.
It didn't make sense to the family and I understand that. Yet, I also know it did make sense to me and a 5-year old. We watched a beautiful sunset, and silently missed Viva together. The little girl had an awesome day visiting a swimming hall, play-ground, got presents and candy. When her mother called at the end of the evening to ask how her day has been, she never mentioned any of that: "We are missing Viva. She is in heaven now you know." Grief has no age.
Being spiritual or religious has never been me either. But I have to admit, the last three weeks have been a very spiritual voyage. It became a pilgrimage. Even though I didn't seek it. It just happened. Or?
Another good friend, although "virtual" this time, told me how her dog let her know she was alright after she passed. That was a beautiful thought to me. But me not being spiritual or religious, would I even notice? Would I miss it, when Viva would try to tell me she was alright?
A rainbow appeared out of nowhere, when we approached the very first beach of the trip. It sent chills down my spine, immediately followed by a warmth, I never felt before.
"Hello Viva", I whispered, smiling.
Maybe I was seeking it after all. Grief can adjust the image you have of yourself. At least, it was a wonderful feeling to see that rainbow, and I needed it to be Viva.