My world turned upside one year ago. I was 45 years old and for the first time, I saw death. I was alone with Max and saw him breathe for one last time.
I was hoping he would recover and spend more years with me. But as though he knew that the world would be a completely different place in the next 100 days and he didn't want to be inside the vet's office alone while I was waiting in the car outside.
For more than 18 months, he had shrugged off cancer inside him and lived the way Max always lived. It aches each moment when I realize I will never see him again. It aches when I know I cannot kiss his vet nose. It aches that I cannot bite his lips while wresting on the floor and those peaceful sleep cuddling next to each other happened for one last time last year this day.
Pain is inevitable in life but suffering is optional. In those 18 months, he taught not to suffer but not suffering even with multiple rounds of chemo, radiation, and tons of medicine. I hope whatever I am feeling now is pain and not suffering.
I miss my Max. Nothing interests me nor am I passionate about anything; all passions were spent in the way we lived together. The light of that passion is what keeps me still alive but I have no idea why.
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