I Can’t Say Grief Is The Color Of Rainbows…

Male Rottweiler, 1½ years old

Male Rottweiler, 1½ years old (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I Can’t Say Grief Is The Color Of Rainbows…


By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka Granny Gee


This morning as I sit here at my computer, I am hearing Christmas music on the commercials on tv.  Yes, I know it’s October… I’m not making it up!


Not only that, I have a big Rottweiler puppy …laying on my bare feet keeping them warm!  I love for our Pups to lay on my feet, they comfort me… and keep my toes warm!


I have a blanket over my lap that is draped over my legs, over that big, spoiled pup!  He is a blanket pup!  Kissy Fairchild… who is named after two famous Rottweilers… our 2 Rottweilers before him.


I try to remember when we got our Rottweiler puppy.  It was a few months after Tommy died… I remember now.  Fairchild, our 11 year old Rottweiler died…  3 months after… Tommy died.


It’s strange… Tommy’s birthday was November 20…. our new puppy’s birthday is November 02….. we got it in the same year Tommy died.  Tommy died May 29, 2010…. Tommy’s birthday was November 20…. our new puppy, Kissy’s birthday is November 02, 2010.  It’s just unusual…..


Fairchild had cancer, though at first we didn’t know it.  We had taken him back to have surgery.  Our vet came out to tell us that she couldn’t do the surgery… Fairchild’s cancer was too far gone.


Skip and I were already grieving for the loss of Tommy.  Fairchild was gently put to sleep… the grief was beyond description.  I cried inside for Tommy and Fairchild… they both loved each other… Skip and I loved them.  Our whole world was almost gone.


I could see caring through the quiet tears in my eyes…. from the staff at the vet’s office.  They knew of Tommy’s death, now…. Fairchild.  I remember looking back to see Skip kneel down to kiss Fairchild, tears on his cheeks.  He loved Fairchild, Fairchild loved him.


I remember Fairchild’s sweet face lying on his paws… he weighed 128 at his death (he’d lost weight).  I remember seeing how ‘baby-sweet’ his face looked as he was going to sleep without suffering.  I cry quietly inside now… thinking about it.


I felt a tear roll down my right cheek… wet, cold.  Another tear just rolled down my left cheek, making the side of my nose ..itch.  You all know how tears do.  I took a moment here to … describe it.


I’m not sure how to describe how my heart just felt, it’s like it is being ‘squeezed’, my throat felt like it tightened, closed up.  How does one describe ‘grief’.  I try sometimes as I am experiencing it… it isn’t pretty.


The words to describe … grief… are never pretty.  I can’t say grief is the color of rainbows… I might could say grief is the color of a rainbow if all the colors were to all of a sudden… mix together.  The colors would be awful……


Sweet Chadwick was a baby puppy, he’s our mixed pup.  He’s the perfect mixture for us.  When we got home from the vet’s office, Chadwick was there for us.  He loved Fairchild… oh, Fairchild loved Chadwick.  Chadwick was our life-saver…. Sweet Chadwick.


Soon after Fairchild’s death, I went to pick his ashes up.  They were in a white, tin cannister with black paw prints all over it… Skip bought a brass plate, had Fairchild’s name engraved on it.  I glued it on the top that one can lift off Fairchild’s ashes.


In a little black bowl, an old baseball rests sitting on top of that cannister.  It’s dirty… Fairchild used to play with it outside.  I tried to wash the dirt off… it’s still stained.  That’s okay…


Beside the ball, sits a little minature Rottweiler with its feeding bowl by its paws.  I had found it at A.C. Moore‘s when I was there shopping for paint brushes, bottles of acryllic paint.


Fairchild’s ashes sit on Skip’s desk… every morning Skip walks by it, puts his hand out to touch the cannister.  One can see to this day … emotion in Skip’s eyes when he speaks of… Fairchild.  No one can see the emotion in my heart when we speak of Fairchild.


Tommy… Fairchild… Tommy… Fairchild… Tommy…  Grief that can’t be described in words to make you really feel ‘how it feels’.


I can only try.  I was thinking of colors… you all know I associate colors with all in my life.  I was thinking….. I can’t say grief is the color of rainbows…







5 thoughts on “I Can’t Say Grief Is The Color Of Rainbows…

  1. To lose a pet/friend is so hard … I think it’s harder than to lose a human good friend.
    What a nice tribute – had a dog once … Lilleman (Little Man) – he was my best friend ever and one day at the age of 14 years he didn’t want to go for his morning walk anymore. And we had to call for the vet – so sad, but it was time for him to leave us.

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