Haunted By Deams, Again and Still

I dreamt of Beau last night.

Sound familiar?

I've blogged about dreaming about Beau before.

I have dreamt about Beau since blogging about dreaming about Beau but, as the one year anniversary of his passing draws near, I feel compelled to blog about dreaming about Beau again.

I dreamt he was playing and wanting me to play with him. I knew it was a dream, I said as much and then decided, dream or not, playing with Beau was a fantastic idea - and so we played.

I don't remember how the dream ended, like I find with most dreams, it didn't end as much as faded away. I awoke and remembered - last night I played with Beau - now I am alone.

The pain is still palpable, but for better or for worse, less profound.

I suspect the dream is my subconscious' way of reminding me what my conscious mind keeps telling me not to remember - but telling yourself not to remember is like telling someone “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain” - immediately they look at the man.

I am trying not to think of the 21st of July as anything other than next Tuesday, so I keep telling myself; "Don't think of the 21st as the day Beau died" - yes, that will work, noooooo problem.

So here it is, now in print, the anniversary of Beau's death is less than a week away.

It is yet another first I must endure. A little more significant that most, I suppose, but still, like the first time I went on vacation since... or the first time my parents visited since... or the first Canada Day since... I guess it too shall pass but still it is different. It is the anniversary of the day I made the hardest decision of my life. It was the day my heart broke completely in two.

The tears are flowing quite readily now... I had thought that I had gotten over the spontaneous water-works that accompanied thinking about Beau, apparently not.

I was hoping this blog would provide me with some profound solace; some deep life lesson that I could use as a growth-medium. But nothing so profound is found.

The bottom line is: I still miss him, I still think about him, I still cry for him.

I still think he was an awesome dog - I still think he was irreplaceable.

So I am still without a four-footed companion; still haunted by him, slowly learning how to embrace playing with the phantom; still learning how to find comfort in his absence.