Little Boy Lost. A New Reality.

I feel like a little lost boy. I feel like i've lost my best mate. I look ahead and think what now? What does this horrible new reality look like? I was meant to go to work today but couldn't do it. Woke up at 0415 with a splitting headache. Called a Supervisor who was wonderful, and who he himself had been faced with the same terrible reality just two weeks ago. It's now 24 hours since Billy went gently into the night surrounded by his whole family. His pack, if you like. Seeing the anesthetic hit him, seeing his legs go was a moment of raw grief followed by a period of 15-20 minutes when we just stayed with him. We were all sat around him and he was covered by his blanket. He felt no pain. His heart stopped. Billy was gone. And now here we are as a family not quite knowing what to do with ourselves. Billy was the heart of our home. Daily routines were built around him. Walks, feeding, bedtime. His absence leaves a void and reframes every part of our existence. We were a team of five and now we are four. Whenever Holly came downstairs she sought him out. Literally every time. I'd come home from work and he would be on the top of our sofa and look up. Perhaps his little curly tail would flicker. When home alone he would join whoever was around. He was a constant source of joy, a little fluffy bundle of love and acceptance. And now he's gone. And the world seems smaller, sadder, less. As a family we are grieving terribly, each in our own way, but also together. We're talking about it, hugging a lot, and there are so many tears. I can honestly say, even just 24 hours on, that this is the most extreme sense of loss I have ever felt. Greater than losing my Father, even. My Dad was not with me every day. He'd not shared thousands of miles of walks along canals, over hills, through fields. Whatever any day had consisted of his love and affection and ability to bring a smile were a constant. Where do I find that now? I look ahead and it feels bleak and dark and cold. I know this grief will pass, but today it is searing. I have put aside any notions of being strong at this point. I'm having to settle for just being human. It's all I can do for now. There are a million happy memories left behind by Billy. Enough laughter to fill several lifetimes. But he's gone now. And I'm sad. And I'm processing. I am told that in time this will pass, and when those vast clouds of sadness part I will be able perceive a way forward. Just not today friends. I'm not ready.