Nothing can prepare you.

Holding your shaking, sobbing child as they grieve the loss of their beloved pet is a different kind of pain.
No one can prepare you for that.
No one can prepare you for the battle of navigating your own emotions and grief while trying to be their rock.
No one can prepare you for the fight of keeping your own tears silent after you have tucked them into bed, having finally helped them to settle enough to sleep.
No one can prepare you or teach you how to be their rock and still process your own feelings.
No one can  prepare you for the pain of hearing your child scream and sob with grief they can not even understand.
No one can prepare you.
No one.

Some people will think I am being dramatic over losing a dog. And that is what it is. But the truth is, my heart just hurts. I miss him. I miss his cute black face with his tan eyebrows. I miss how he walked diagonally. I miss his yipping. I miss how he cocked his head to one side when he listened to our voices. I miss how happy my boy was when he played with him. I miss how he was a companion for our other older dog. I miss how my boy would ride his bike with the dogs. I miss how he’d headbutt my hand if I didn’t pat him or tickle his snout or head. I have all of these feelings, and they hurt so much.

And I know my little boy is hurting. He adored his big goofy pup. He loved him. His words to me yesterday were “I loved him with all my heart. And now I’m heartbroken.” Oh little one. My heart hurts to see him hurt so much. It’s soul destroying to hold your child as they sob in pain and there is nothing you can do to make it better, to fix the hurt, to take the pain away. I don’t know how to do this part of parenting, there is no manual, there is no right way to try and help. There are no rules as to how long this process goes, or what comes next. There is no teaching to prepare you how navigate being someone’s rock while they are heartbroken. But I’m trying.

Today I kept him home from school. We talked. We played Stardew Valley and Mouse Trap. We read stories and watched Australian Idol. We cuddled lots and had chocolate mug cakes for dessert after dinner. We told stories and sang songs at bedtime. We prayed together. We are trying. We are both learning.

He cried tonight, and said he doesn’t know what to feel next or when to move on, because it all just happened too soon and so suddenly. I told him it’s okay, you just have to let the feelings come and go, because that’s what they do. And that he can talk about and remember for as long as he wants to.

I wish I didn’t have to do this part of parenting because it’s so hard and it hurts so much. No matter what I do tonight, my tears just keep running. But it’s part of life. It’s the circle of life, and we can’t make it stop.

I’m just trying to remember that these are big feelings for a little boy to process, and there are also big feelings for me. And both of those are okay. It won’t always be like this. It just is right now.