It comes and goes. It's been 3 months. Life seems pretty normal. Tika is over being terrified of my every move or noise. Jake is over looking for Remington. I don't cringe every time I turn around and see something, because things aren't reminding me of him much. And then--the last couple of days--don't know what it is.
Yesterday, went to fasten Jake's seatbelt after agility class and he was in the wrong seat. When Rem was around, they were *always* in the wrong seats, and I'd say "switch seats," and they'd switch. It hit me hard and I sat in the car sobbing before coming home. Today I filled up the gas tank and washed the windows. I do this every week, sometimes more often. Realized that there were no windows inside that needed cleaning, whereas Rem always left a dog-nose Picasso covering his window. Hit me hard again. Why this week?
There is so much to say and I don't know how to say it or who to say it to. It just wells up and -- it's so immense sometimes that it overwhelms mere words. I knew my dogs were important to me, but I just never think they can get in this deep.