Here begins the life without you...

Have you noticed that it's often more easy to express happiness, grief and anger than it is to express loss? How do you describe what you feel when you lose a friend or a family member or your life partner ? How do you express yourself without stating the obvious?

A loss is a loss is a loss. And that's as realistic as it can get. But even in this hard-hitting, pragmatic little world, there are a few things that slow us down. A few circumstances that make us think, feel and react. Unfortunately or fortunately, we're humans. And in most cases, we're born with this super ability to express what we feel. However, when it comes to expressing the loss of a loved one, we often have too much or too little to say. Maybe, I should just speak for myself. Maybe it's only me and maybe this is only a mind block. But no matter what it is, there is a constant urge to find myself an outlet. To say what I feel. For me, this is just a way to remember those whom I've lost and will always miss.

After many failed attempts, I've finally managed to write. I write for Zenia, our 9yr old "baby" Labrador, even though I know she isn't here to read this. But considering she wasn't too much of a reader anyway, let's just hope that she's listening, like she always did.

It's been close to two weeks since that early Tuesday morning when we lost her. And things just haven't been the same. Without any bias, I've never met a more content soul. In fact, my sister and I envied her for the carefree life that she led. Which pretty much meant sleeping, eating and sleeping some more. For the past few months, life was a little less comfortable for Zin Din. We knew she was getting older, we also knew that she wasn't exactly in absolute health and even then life managed to catch us off guard on the 27th of September.

Those who know me would agree that I'm not too optimistic a person. More often that not I tend to ignore the brighter side of things. But when it came to Zenia, it was different. I was almost sure, positive that she'll see it through. Despite being diagnosed with multiple problems, I was convinced that she would be back to her lazy, always hungry self. We all experienced bouts of negativity but we were pretty sure that we won't give up so soon. The thing with pets is that they rely on you. They trust you to take care of them. Their faith in you is so powerful that it gives you the strength to fight. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. But sometimes you just don't know what you're fighting. Was her death inevitable? I certainly didn't think so till the last few hours she spent with us. Even as I watched her go, I secretly hoped that she'd get better. She didn't. She passed away at the break of dawn but thankfully her suffering wasn't prolonged.

Our home feels empty. There's pretty much nothing that doesn't remind us of her. The best part about Zenia was that she shared different relationships with each of us. In the past 9 years, she gave each one of us our very own 'Zenia moments' to remember her by. My memories of her are so happy that it's difficult not to smile when thinking of her. But life isn't quite the same. I miss having her around, chasing her new found enemies, the two kittens outside our house. I miss coming back home and finding Zenia sitting outside the kitchen, waiting for dinner. I miss waking her up just to annoy her. I just miss her. She was and always will be such a special part of our lives.

By now, our peace loving lab must have found herself a happy place. And no matter where she goes, I'm sure she's never going to be too far away from us.